


How Far Will You Go For Your Leader

by WashiPuppy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Claw Marks, Clothed Sex, Dry Orgasm, Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, I Tried, Lance plays Sexy Chicken, Lance thinks with the wrong head, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Possessive Behavior, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-14 18:06:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9197414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WashiPuppy/pseuds/WashiPuppy
Summary: Non-Con tag just to be safe."You would throw yourself at my mercy his place?"The Druid asked with a curious tilt to her head,"And what would I do with you?""You could do anything you wanted with me, Babe. Just tell me what you want." Lance heard himself say low, sultry, and entirely without his rational brain intervening. He could practically hear the minds of the Galra in the room grinding to a halt.Great, now when the rest of the team rescued Shiro, he'd have to tell them "Lance died after flirting with the enemy. There was nothing I could do. I think we all knew this was inevitable.""You should be throwing yourself upon the Commander's mercy, not mine,"The Druid stood and grinned down at Lance.Ah well, what was the french saying? 'When the wine is drawn, you have to drink it' or something. He leaned slightly to give him direct line of sight to the Commander."You could do anything you wanted with me, Babe. Just tell me what you want." Lance repeated in the same sultry tone.





	1. Capture

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to try my hand at porn, kind of like a Christmas present to myself.  
> 10,000 words later... well, I figured I might as well share part 1.
> 
> If i know you in the for realsy world, please don't read this :P
> 
> Part 2 to come as soon as it's done.

Rough hands pushed Lance forwards through the doorway, uncaring of his ability to keep up or even avoid falling over. He wasn't bound, but the Galra on either side of him were strong enough that he might as well have been for all that he could get out of their grip. And he'd tested that grip fairly well as they dragged him through the corridors. Annoyingly, his Bayard had been confiscated by one of his captors on his first escape attempt, leaving him with little to work with but wrestling trips and wild flailing.

Lance was supposed to be Shiro's support on this mission, and getting captured hadn't exactly been part of the plan. But since he was here, he had hoped to be able to use this to his advantage. Shiro had been captured earlier ( _'Please let him be OK. He didn't deserve this, not again…'_ ), so if Lance was also captured, he might be taken to where Shiro was. Then he could signal the exact location to Pidge using that disk thingie that Pidge had started to insist that Lance carry around with him, and the rest of the team could break them out.

That hope had been dashed when he realised he wasn't heading towards the brig. He'd seemed to be heading more towards… well, Lance's understanding of the layout of a Galra warship wasn't great, but this seemed closer to the bridge than the brig.

Luckily, it seemed that Shiro had also not been taken to the brig.

Unluckily… Well, pretty much everything else.

Lance scanned the room quickly, noting that it was light on furniture, but had obvious segments along the walls, ceiling, and floors, with screen projectors embedded into various lines and consoles around the edges. That was as far as any observation of his surroundings got, as two things consumed almost all of his focus.

"Sir! We have another member of Voltron." The Galra holding his right arm announced.

The first thing was directly in front of him when he entered the room.

On a large black chair sat the Galran Commander. He was taller that most of the Galra Lance had seen before, but also more lithely built under his dark armor with red and purple details. His colouring was darker too - A dark purple covered over most of the visible parts of his body aside from the… hair? On his head and over his ears, which was longer, lighter and almost Lavender. He was sitting… well, casually. Lance hadn't even known Galra could do casual, but here he was.

Lance didn't recognise him. He wasn't sure whether that was good or bad.

The Commander's glowing, pale yellow eyes moved over to focus on Lance as he was announced, and Lance was struck by the thought that he seemed too young to be a Galran Commander.

The second thing caught Lance's attention only a split second later. It was a pained, muffled cry that drew his eyes to Shiro. 

The black paladin was luckily still in his armor. He was on his knees, arms cuffed behind him by those energy manacle things that Lance was unfortunately rather familiar with. Matching cuffs on his ankles were joined to the ones on his wrists before tethering Shiro to something on the ground behind him, keeping him from standing. His cries of pain were stifled by a rubber bar that had been shoved into his mouth, as a gag or something to bite on, Lance wasn't sure. He wasn't really thinking to clearly at that moment, since before Shiro stood a Galra in a long, hooded, dark red cloak.

Lance felt like his heart had stopped completely for the few moments it took him to realise that the woman wasn't Haggar herself - she was clearly much younger, with dark hair and more blueish markings across her face. But there was no mistaking her profession.

She was one of the Druids. A Galra Witch. And she was touching Shiro, hurting him somehow.

"Stop!" Lance began to struggle in earnest, trying desperately to get away, get to Shiro, do… well, something. The grip on his arms slipped just enough for Lance to surge forwards, get close enough to be only a few steps away from the Druid before one of his captors kicked the back of his knee, forcing him down. 

"Stop it!" Lance tried again as the Galra regained their hold on his arms. "What are you doing to him, you… You Witch!"

Much to Lance's surprise, the Druid stopped. Shiro slumped forwards, catching his breath in ragged gasps, and Lance wanted nothing more than to run over to him and make sure he was OK.

The Druid looked at Lance, luminous yellow eyes betraying nothing of her thoughts, though the tilt of her head conveyed… curiosity?

Lance had no idea what it meant when a Druid looked curious. Probably nothing good.

"Show some manners before the Commander," Growled the Galra on Lance's left. Lance forced himself to look away from the Druid, flicking his eyes over to the Commander.

If anything, the Commander looked intrigued.

 _"I'm merely inspecting the Master's work, paladin,"_ The Druid responded in a husky, rather breathy voice. _"The Champion's nervous system is just a little… primitive, for something connected to so sophisticated a piece of equipment."_ She smoothed Shiro's hair down, revealing nails painted bright gold. Shiro flinched, recovered enough to look over at Lance. Lance tried to smile reassuringly while desperately trying to work out how to activate his tracking thingie. If he was quiet about it, he might be able to unclip the bracers on his arms. Then… Well, the plan hadn't gotten that far yet.

"Don't you have, I don't know… access to blueprints you can study instead?" Lance bit back while he worked. The Galra on his left side tightened his grip slightly in warning, but Lance ignored it.

The Druid… laughed. It wasn't even a cruel or mocking laugh, which somehow made it weirder. Apparently Lance had managed to amuse the alien witch. Go him.

 _"Books and charts aren't the same as seeing and experiencing the real thing, are they now?"_ She said conversationally. A finger crept under Shiro's chin and tilted it up to force him to look at her. _"I already understand how my Master works much better now. And there is more I could learn."_ She sighed. _"I don't have the time to do this nicely. Soon my Master will wish for him to be returned to her, and then when will I get a chance to properly look?"_

Shiro's eyes widened in fear, and Lance's heart broke for him. 

"True. We should report the acquisition of the Champion to Lord Zarkon and Druid Haggar immediately." The Commander responded smoothly. 

Lance looked back to the Commander in surprise. In part because his voice was a lot less rough than he'd been expecting somehow, and the dissonance took a moment to resolve, in part because if their capture hadn't been reported in, then maybe he could stall long enough for Voltron to get here without risking the rest of the Galra fleet arriving before them. Lance just had to stall.

"Wait!" Lance called out. "I mean… we don't have to call them immediately, do we?"

The Galra behind him growled and pushed him far enough down that his head was touching the floor. Lance let out a series of pained 'ows'.

"Should I gag him, Commander?" The Galra on his left asked, a little too enthusiastically for Lance's taste.

"No," The Commander responded with obvious amusement, "I want to hear where he's going with this."

Lance blinked at the floor in confusion as the weight against his body let up. Once that passed he scrambled towards Shiro, even getting close enough to place a hand on his leg before the sound of his new Galra friends drawing weapons made him freeze.

"Make one wrong move, and you're dead." growled Lefty, just loud enough for him to hear. Oh great. Trigger happy chinchillas. That was definitely what he wanted.

"Okay, well, I don't want to die, so… uh, maybe warn me if I'm making a wrong move, _then_ shoot me?" Lance babbled. Shiro shot him his patent pending 'Shut up Lance' look, which Lance could only shrug to.

"Okay, so… if it's alright with the gun bunnies behind me, I'd like to move so I'm not mid scramble, OK?" Lance said, slowly moving his body to a sitting position besides Shiro. Shiro watched him carefully, eyes flicking back to the guards behind him occasionally.

Lance took a moment to properly take in everyone else in the room. A fair few robotic sentinels lined the walls, but there were only four Galra in the room itself - the two behind, plus the Druid and the Commander.

Yeah… 'only' didn't feel like the right word when one of them was literally magic.

Behind said Druid, the Commander watched him with interest. At least, he thought he was watching him. He might have been looking at Shiro, or the Druid, or the far wall. It was harder to watch for the direction of someone's gaze when the species seemed to have bio-luminescence in their eyeballs. How did that even work, anyway? Did it interfere with the cones? Did Galra vision even use cones?

Right, he was stalling. He needed to say something to stall.

"So, do your eyes just have a really reflective retina, or do they actually produce light like that?"

Wow, that was terrible. That was some rubbish stalling. Well done, Lance.

It seemed to grab the Druid's attention though. She bent down and trace her finger down Lance's jaw, one clawed thumb coming uncomfortably close to his eyes as she peered into them. Under that hood was a surprisingly smooth, fine featured face, wearing eyeliner and jewelry and other trappings he hadn't ever associated with the Galra. She was… actually kind of beautiful.

Shiro surged forward, as though trying to get between Lance and the Druid, but Lance placed a hand on his chest to keep him back. And to slide the now activated tracker under his chest plate, but hey - who was counting? Lance would certainly not be bragging about his super sleight-of-hand skills after this.

Lance wasn't sure the Druid reacted to Shiro moving, she didn't even flinch when the Galra behind him started forwards and switched to point their weapons at Shiro. She just… stayed, looking at him. He could feel the tension thrumming through Shiro beneath his hand too, which at least provided a distraction from the feeling of being pinned down.

 _"Blue eyes…"_ The Druid whispered loud enough that Lance was sure the whole ship could hear it. It made his breath catch somewhere in his throat, but it also gave him an idea on how to stall just a little longer.

"Did you… want to study me?" Lance found himself babbling under that gaze. It didn't even involve much acting on his part to behave like a frightened man pleading for his life. "Because, if you didn't hand us over to Haggar, you'd have a… control? A baseline to study and compare for a while? Or to replicate… If-if you had to. If you just don't hand Shiro over, I'd let you…"

Shiro shouted beside him, words distorted by the gag. Lance managed to turn his head slightly to give the man a reassuring smile.

 _"You would throw yourself at my mercy his place?"_ The Druid asked with a curious tilt to her head, drawing Lance's eyes to snap back to her. _"And what would I do with you?"_

"You could do anything you wanted with me, Babe. Just tell me what you want." Lance heard himself say low, sultry, and entirely without his rational brain intervening. He could practically hear the minds of the Galra in the room grinding to a halt.

Great, now when the rest of the team rescued Shiro, he'd have to tell them "Lance died after flirting with the enemy. There was nothing I could do. I think we all knew this was inevitable." 

_"You should be throwing yourself upon the Commander's mercy, not mine,"_ The Druid stood and grinned down at Lance.

Ah well, what was the french saying? 'When the wine is drawn, you have to drink it' or something. He leaned slightly to give him direct line of sight to the Commander.

"You could do anything you wanted with me, Babe. Just tell me what you want." Lance repeated in the same sultry tone. 

Shiro made a strained, choked sound. One of the Galra behind him tried not to laugh (Probably Righty, Lance decided. Lefty had no sense of humour).

The Commander stared at him, face completely blank for almost a full tick before breaking into laughter. His was a little more evil than the Druid's had been, but nowhere near as evil as he'd been expecting. More devious than evil, really.

"Oh?" The Commander smiled, resting his chin on his hand. "You really are quite desperate not to see the Champion turned over to his rightful owners. That's now three times you've offered up your body in his place. Don't you have anything else of value?"

The Commander looked to the Druid beside him and… wait, could she read thoughts? Oh crap oh crap, please let her not read thoughts.

"Not… really?" Lance offered. If he could come up with some "information" that sounded believable, maybe he could offer that… So long as the Druid couldn't read minds.

"Shield codes? Weapon specifications? The location of the the Castle of Lions, perhaps?" The Commander tried.

Lance shrugged. "I don't know any of that. And even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you that. And even if I wanted to tell you, I wouldn't know how." He responded, playing up the dumb a bit. It was all technically true anyway - no one but Coran had the shield codes, Lance didn't understand any of the weapons specs, and while he figured the location of the Castle was probably "on it's way", he didn't actually know where it was, or even how to explain where it was.

If the Commander looked to the Druid again, Lance couldn't tell. Damn those iris-less eyes. It was like looking at someone wearing reflective sunglasses.

"Then your body really is the only thing valuable you have to offer." The Commander commented, shifting his position slightly to be less reclined, more focused on him.

Huh. Well _that_ hit an insecurity he hadn't expected to have hit today. Lance just hoped that Galran body language was different enough that the Commander wouldn't notice how that had stung.

Shiro shifted beside him and Lance looked up, realising now that his eyes had dropped to the floor. He couldn't read Shiro's expression well, but it seemed worried.

Lance pulled himself together and turned back to the Commander, pulling his flirtatious facade around him like extra armour.

"You haven't even seen it, you have no idea how valuable it is." Lance pointed out with a confidence he didn't really feel, letting his eyes drop to half lidded. "It just happens to be the only thing I have on me. Although, I thought we were discussing whether we wanted it on you."

The Commander chuckled and leaned forwards, looking at him with active interest now. "Exactly how far will you go for your leader, Blue Paladin?"

Lance decided not to answer that. No Galra needed to know exactly how far he'd go for Shiro, and Shiro… Shiro definitely didn't need that in his life, it was already complicated enough. He didn't need to know that Lance would do almost anything to make him smile, didn't need to know how often Lance gave in and let himself imagine being in the black paladin's bed, imagined being allowed to run his tongue over every line and dip, imagined being pinned down as Shiro fucked into him or rode him, imagined Shiro playful and happy because of Lance… No. Shiro didn't need Lance with a slightly (okay, very) sexual hero-crush. Shiro needed a Lance who would 100% have his back.

Lance kept his gaze level as he stared back at the Commander. The Commander made something of a show of looking him over before putting on an obvious leer.

"Well, I admit you're not bad to look at in the armour, but I don't feel I've seen enough to confirm your assessment." He continued. "Why don't you take the armour off?"

Lance fought not to narrow his eyes at the leering Galra. He was definitely playing with Lance, no doubt about it. But more than that, this was a challenge or a test of some kind. To see if Lance was serious, perhaps?

He heard Shiro shift next to him and make a sound like he was trying to say something stern around a mouth full of rubber. Lance let his eyes flick over to him for only a moment, noting the tension over his body and the uncertainty before returning his eyes to the Commander. Seeing Shiro so unsure only set Lance's mind to making himself look as in control and confident as he could. He could do this. He could be calm, draw attention from Shiro and onto himself, and show that he was able to keep his head. And maybe his body was the only valuable thing he had, but fuck it. It was his to use.

Slowly, he held his arms up in what he figured was the universal position for 'Please don't shoot me'.

"So long as tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum behind me can keep their fingers off the trigger while I strip." Lance pointed his thumbs to the Galra behind him. Lefty growled a curse-word that whatever wonder of technology it was that let Lance understand most of the universe decided not to translate.

The Commander chuckled. "If you don't attack, they won't shoot." He said with a sly grin.

Lance thought the most eloquent way to respond to that would be by lowering his arms and spreading his knees a bit more. He leaned back to remove his thigh guards, wondering for a moment what Galra even considered attractive. The Commander at least looked interested, and Lance was about 85% sure that he'd checked out Lance's groin, for all that could be seen through the under-suit. Lance was still calling it a win.

He followed up by carefully unclipping his breastplate, which… Well. It was kind of hard to draw "taking off your armour" out into a slow, sexy striptease, so Lance settled on just keeping his eyes fixed on the darker Galra sitting before him and trying not to look like he was stalling or had no idea what he was doing. He could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him, including Shiro, and just thinking that Shiro was also watching… It sent a carnal thrill through him that made him want to play up a bit. Made him want to push further, despite his rational mind pointing out that it would be so easy for this to go wrong.

Really, it was already very wrong. He was actively trying to seduce the enemy, and kind of enjoying it because his C.O. was maybe watching him do it. That wasn't life, that was one of those posts to porn site message boards describing random people's fantasies. It definitely wasn't something you did to friends without their permission.

He could add that to the "Things that make Lance feel like a worthless ass" pile for review later.

Taking off the gauntlets and arm plates was a little easier to draw out, but his obvious slowness appeared to be caught out before all four pieces of armor hit the floor.

"Do you need a hand there?" The Commander asked, sounding amused and a little smug.

Lance responded by putting on his best cocky smirk, slowly drawing his belt off with a flourish. He held it out beside him and dropped it just behind Shiro, keeping his eyes from obviously looking to the place where his belt fell near Shiro's hands. Hopefully Shiro would get the point.

"No. But if you wanted to help, you only had to say." Lance replied, surprised by how sultry he managed to sound despite his stomach doing flips from nerves. It was far too easy to ignore the little part of his brain that was wondering just what the hell he was doing. 

The Commander leaned back in his chair, the slightest flex of his hands over his thighs serving to assure Lance that at least this piece of body language appeared to be the same. 

"Come closer then," The Commander challenged, smirking. 

Lance hesitated. Most people didn't flirt back when Lance flirted, let alone escalate the game, so it had been a long time since Lance had had a chance to engage in such an obviously sexually charged back and forth. This was another escalation in the game of Sexy Chicken they had going on, one that the Commander seemed to be expecting him to balk at. Maybe the Galra had the upper hand here, but Lance thought that the Commander recognised that that the game they were playing was dangerous for him too. 

Despite himself… Most of Lance didn't want to back down. He wasn't one to concede defeat at the best of times, common sense and self preservation be damned. Now he found himself in some kind of perfect storm of encouragement; Wanting to distract the Galra long enough for team Voltron to rescue the pair of Paladins unimpeded, plus knowing that every second that he could keep the attention focused on him was a second that it wasn't focused on Shiro, plus the Galra in front of him deliberately challenging him to keep going, plus the perverse thrill of Shiro being there that he tried desperately to ignore ( _Shiro might be watching, and if Lance could turn the enemy on, maybe Shiro…_ ), it all amounted to the same thing.

Lance would not be the first to back down.

He turned to Shiro and slowly, carefully telegraphing every movement, put a hand on the black paladin's shoulder. Shiro was breathing harder, and Lance worried that he might actually be having a full panic attack, with Lance completely unable to offer any comfort. Shiro met his eyes though, distressed but trying his best to keep it together. Lance could imagine what he'd be saying if he could talk; Mostly just his name, in a warning tone that said "That's enough", or "Keep quiet, let me handle them", or "What the hell are you thinking?", something in that ball park.

"Sorry that you have to be stuck here," Lance offered, the only response he could really think of. He tried again for that reassuring confidence. "You might, uh… not want to look?"

Shiro made a small, frustrated sound in response. With a final squeeze of his hand, Lance stood slowly, hands visible so as not to get shot. His footsteps echoed in the near silence of the room as he walked towards the Commander.

The small part of Lance that wanted to back down pointed out that the things he was trying to achieve here could be done in ways that didn't involve whoring himself out to the enemy for the cheap thrill of it. That voice whispered that Shiro would tell the team, and they wouldn't want to be near him. Maybe they wouldn't even be able to work with him any more if he went any further, they'd think that Lance was… disgusting, dirty, worthless, and tainted if he let this game continue. And Shiro… Shiro would find him repulsive, especially if he knew that Lance was kind of hoping that Shiro kept watching. If Shiro knew that just his presence gave Lance confidence, that just the thought of him watching made heat pool in his chest, made Lance add a sway to his step.

That voice could also go into the "Things that make Lance feel like a worthless ass" pile to be inspected later. It wasn't loud enough to listen to right now, anyway.

The Commander watched him approach without blinking, smirk falling with a small, sharp inhale before coming back in full force as he beckoned Lance to stand right in front of him, legs spread slightly to make room for the blue paladin. 

Of course, Lance was standing eye-to-eye with the Galra Commander, who was still sitting. Why were all the Galra so big?

The Commander held Lance's gaze, hand gracefully rising to trace a claw along Lance's jawline before cupping his cheek, making him jump ever so slightly at the touch. The Commander huffed lightly and grinned, removing any hope Lance had that his flinch hadn't been noticed. With the charge in the air, Lance had half expected the Galra's hand to actually zap him, not to feel like warm velvet pressed against his skin. 

"Huh," The Commander seemed taken aback for a moment, moving his hand around to rest on Lance's neck and play with his hair. The touch wasn't unpleasant, just… well, different. "You're much… softer than I was expecting somehow."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Lance quipped, not completely sure how to take that statement.

"It isn't a bad thing, Paladin, just unexpected." The Galra replied with a suggestive smirk, the thumb of the hand on his neck moving to rest along his jaw. "Rather like yourself," He added quietly, meeting Lance's eyes.

Lance took the moment to properly study the Galra Commander. Aside from being much darker than almost any other Galra he'd seen, the Commander also had quite straight, pointed features that looked almost… familiar?

Huh.

"Moriak was right," The Commander cut into his sudden realisation, drawing him back to the present. Lance flinched, feeling his face heat up as his mind and body both simultaneously caught up to the fact that he'd been leaning in towards the Commander. He didn’t pull back though, stubbornly returning the Commander’s gaze. "There's just a hint of blue in your eyes."

"Is that a problem?" And… wow, was that Lance’s voice? He’d been aiming for challenging, but what came out was low, breathy, and sure maybe it was trembling slightly, but damn - he needed to learn to do that voice on command.

Lance was about 90% sure that he heard the Commander gasp quietly at the sound of it too, so he was calling that another victory for him.

"Not at all," The Commander drawled, tracing his free hand up Lance’s front. "You’re just made of unexpected details, aren’t you?" 

"You’re kind of unexpected yourself," Lance muttered under his breath. The Commander definitely heard, his eyes widening for a moment before returning to half-lidded. 

"I was supposed to he helping you out of your armour, wasn’t I?" He asked absently, letting his fingers skim along the seams of Lance’s undershirt. "Shall I take this off?"

Despite himself, Lance found his eyes darting over to Shiro, who was pulling at his bindings but otherwise quiet. Shiro stilled when Lance’s eyes met his, and Lance wondered if the sound of his heart beating was really that loud or if it was just in his head. Still, confidence was his armor, so he made sure to throw a wink Shiro’s way.

"Should you really be undressing me in front of someone related to you?" Lance asked, looking over to the Druid (Moriak, right?) before looking back to the Commander. He was pretty sure they were related; They had the same eyes, same nose, even similar jawlines, despite the Commander’s being sharper and broader. And maybe he couldn’t pick Galra family relations out that easily, but since being blindsided by Pidge… Well, he’d been trying to pay more attention.

The Commander let out a short, delighted laugh. Lance wondered if his ability to accidentally amuse Galra was particularly strong only with this family, or if it could be applied to others.

"I wouldn’t worry about my cousin," The Commander chuckled, fingers skimming into the gap between Lance’s top and pants. Lance thought that the Galra sounded like he might be impressed, especially since he’d given Lance that little bit of confirmation that he was right. "After all, didn’t she suggest you ‘Throw yourself at my mercy?’ I think this is her own fault, don’t you?" He continued in a slightly mocking tone that seemed to be directed at Moriak.

So, he might have wandered into the middle of a sibling contest here. Cousin contest. Whatever, it suddenly didn’t matter as much as soft fingers sliding up under his shirt, pushing the fabric up with just a hint of claw scratching at his skin. Lance let his shirt be moved back over his head, leaving it to sit over his arms and shoulders like a bolero. It'd be easier to pull back on again when the team arrived, he reasoned. It certainly wasn't any concession to modesty, since he didn't have any.

The Commander leaned back, tracing a hand over Lance's stomach and making an obvious show of studying him. Lance couldn't quite hold back a sharp intake of breath at the feeling of plush hands on him, painfully aware that everyone in the room might be watching him.

The Commander made a thoughtful noise, eyes raking over Lance's chest. "I suppose you're not bad, even if there's not much of you." He spread both his hands over Lance's waist, as though to emphasise how small it was in comparison. Lance felt himself bristle, cutting through the nerves of being out on display like this.

"You're one to talk," Lance grumbled, the intended force of that statement cut off by a hitched breath as the Commander's hands moved higher, sliding up Lance's flanks until his thumbs rubbed into the dip just below his pecs.

The Commander's eyes met his, something dangerous flashing in them for just a moment. Lance seemed to have touched on sore spot, and now it felt like he might be in real danger. 

More danger than he'd already put himself in.

"I didn't mean it-" Lance began, but was cut off by a sudden tug forwards. Lance reached out instinctively to hold himself up, hands coming to rest on the Commander's armour before he pulled them back and held them up. The last thing he wanted now was to be shot. 

"Are you quite alright, Blue Paladin?" The Commander growled into his ear and… OK, that actively sent a shiver straight through his body and to his dick, drawing a startled gasp out of Lance. The fact that the Galra's hair (Fur?) smelled like warm metal, salt air and something almost like leather didn't exactly hurt matters either. "You're trembling."

"It's cold," Lance managed to protest weakly, immediately discarding his 'am not' response as too blatantly untrue. "And I don't want to be shot," He added, looking back to where Righty and Lefty still stood. Just to make sure they didn't look too shooty now that he was all but in their commanding officer's lap. 

Lance figured that the pair might look, at best, disinterested or disdainful. They might even be mocking him. What he wasn't expecting was for Righty to be watching him with a wide-eyed, almost hungry expression while Lefty stood stoically and glared at the wall behind them, biting his lip and looking as though he'd been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing.

Lance had no idea what to make of that.

"Really? That's the reason you're going with?" The Commander continued to purr into his ear. "Are you sure you’re not frightened?" Lance could hear the grin in the Commander's voice. "Perhaps you're in over your head?" 

The Galra let one of his hands fall back to Lance's hips, thumb skimming under the waistband of his leggings, and Lance's planned response of 'I'll show you frightened' died half-formed on his lips as his breath hitched involuntarily in response. The Commander pulled back from Lance's ear, reclining back into his chair.

"Unfortunately for you," The Commander added with a smirk, "I only fuck the willing." He turned to Moriak, looking as if he were about to add something, but Lance spoke quicker.

"Who said I wasn't willing?" Lance shot back at the Commander, who at least seemed momentarily stunned. Ha! Thought you could beat Lance at sexual Chicken, huh?

Holy Crow, what the hell was he doing? No good life choices were made purely with your dick.

"I think we've established that you're willing to do a lot of things if there's the smallest chance that it would keep you leader safe." The Commander said, low and slightly growled. Fuck, that was going to become a ‘thing’ for Lance at this rate. The Commander’s head turned to where Shiro was still bound before turning back to Lance and purring low enough that Lance was sure no-one but him could hear. "But I take pride in the pleasure of my playthings, and I'd _hate_ to steal you from that leader of yours."

Lance drew in a sharp breath, his eyes inevitably drawn to Shiro again, and his breath caught in his throat as all rational thought left his mind. Because when Lance looked, he met Shiro's eyes. Shiro was watching him intently, leaning forwards against his bindings, eyes dark and focused. Lance wasn't sure how to read his expression, with that stupid bit still in Shiro's mouth throwing Lance off, but he was sure he wasn't imagining the heat of it. Whether it was anger or something else, his body didn't care; Shiro looked insanely attractive when he was intense and focused, and that look shot a rush of pure lust through his body, sweet and thick as honey, straight from his chest to his cock.

Lance pulled himself away from the sight, forcing his focus back to the Commander. Well, that was going to be hard to play off after this. _'Sure, I know I locked eyes with you while our mortal enemy growled in my ear in an unfairly sexy way, but that doesn't have to change anything for the worse, does it?'_

Lance could almost see the Commander's mind working as he stared intently at the paladin, figuring things out and taking notes. Lance wanted that attention on him sure, but he didn't want the Galra to be thinking. Well, subtlety wasn’t exactly his strong suit anyway.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Lance grabbed both of the Commander’s hands, placing one on his hip. He raised the other to the side of his face, manoeuvring it so that he could lick the pad of the Galra's thumb and let his tongue curl around it. The Commander's lips parted in a sharp inhale, eyes focused on Lance's tongue, and Lance was pleased to see that this also carried over between species.

Behind Lance, Lefty swore and began muttering under his breath, armor creaking as he shifted. Righty chuckled breathlessly. Good old Righty. Righty was Lance’s favourite of the pair.

"You’re determined," The Commander commented, voice low and growled.

Lance tried to think of something witty to say, he really did. But all that was running through his mind was that growled purr, the warmth of Shiro’s eyes upon him, and the desire to show Shiro… What, exactly? That he could make the enemy think he was sexy? That at least someone thought his body was worth something? The was good at giving head?

Huh. That was an idea.

Lance gave the Commander his best lopsided grin before dropping down to his knees, placing his hands on the Commander’s thighs to steady himself. He looked up through his eyelashes and ran his hands up the thigh armor until his hands slipped onto the Commander’s undersuit, noting the reactions he got as he leaned forwards - another brief flash of wide eyed surprised, a flexing of the hand along his jaw, the other hand hovering above him as though not sure what he should do with it just yet. Lance half expected the Commander to stop him, and he wasn’t completely sure himself whether he wanted the Galra to back out or encourage him on. He was leaning towards the latter.

Luckily, the Commander appeared to be leaning the same way. His face split into a lascivious smile and he shifted forwards, letting his legs spread further apart so that Lance could lean in close. Lance used the chance to nuzzle at the join and try to work out how to get into the Galra under-armour jumpsuit. There had to be a way - surely they didn’t take the whole suit off to use the bathroom. He could totally work this out.

The Commander, as it turned out, was not willing to wait long enough for Lance to work this out. Impatient hands tilted Lance’s head back just long enough for the Commander to activate… something? It looked needlessly complicated, but it had the desired result; The Galra pulled his already mostly-hard cock free, running his fingers up the sides of it a couple of times.

From where Lance was sitting… Uh, kneeling, the Commander was _hung_. He was a lot longer than Lance was expecting, but at least he wasn’t so girthy that Lance wouldn’t be able to get his mouth around it. How did all of that fit smoothly under that bodysuit? It was probably pretty well in proportion to the rest of him for a Galra… The Commander was tall and thin after all, so it made sense. But still!

There was a weird rush of power for Lance, seeing physical proof that he was having an effect on the Commander. It almost drowned out the stab of nerves that he wouldn’t be very good at this, since he’d really never gone down on an alien before, so he was kind of just winging it here. Lance licked his lips and reminded himself to blink, tentatively sliding his hands forwards over the Commander’s thighs to take the shaft in his hands. He wanted to get a feel for things first anyway.

The Commander’s cock was dark, almost Indigo in colour with a pinky-purple blush at a more pointed, tapered head that Lance had to try really hard not to think of as looking like a flower of some kind. It had the familiar feel of soft, smooth skin over a hard core in his hand, but with three long raised lines with slight bumps, one on the underside and one on each side, which ended with larger knots at the base. Lance ran his fingers lightly over the shaft, both to tease and to get a read on how sensitive the Commander really was, carefully cataloguing every reaction and trying to force the rest of the room to fall away. 

Light touches with his fingers were encouraged by the soft caress on his cheek, a thumb rubbing at the top bump of the underside of the head elicited a short inhale and caused the member in his hand to jump. But the best reaction came when he thumbed at the sides towards the top, pulling an stifled moan out of the Commander. With a bit more confidence, Lance leant forwards and ran his tongue along up the side of the Commander’s cock, stopping to swirl it around the head (and Lance wasn’t sure what he was expecting this to taste like, but kind of like salted lime wasn’t it). The Commander choked back a groan and threaded his fingers through Lance’s hair in response, scratching pleasantly at his scalp. Lance decided the best way to show his approval would be to employ his mouth, swallow the head of the Commander’s cock and run the flat of his tongue up as much of it as he could.

That got the reaction he wanted. The Commander flexed under Lance’s ministrations, rolling his hips forward, breath coming in short pants. Lance pulled back a bit with a startled moan, less surprised by the movement and more by the fact that the narrow tip of the Galra’s cock slipped to the back of his throat with ease. He was glad he didn’t exactly have much of a gag reflex (Lance wasn’t one to brag, except he totally was and he had showed off his talent several times by pouring food straight down his throat), since choking would probably have broken the strange spell that had built up.

Lance rested a hand at the base of the shaft to give him some warning in the future before re-focusing, looking up at the Commander through his eyelashes and flicking his tongue over the head a couple of times, arching his back slightly. The Commander had his head tipped back, the sliver of yellow light spilling out past his eyelashes the only clue that his eyes weren’t closed and were still open, still watching.

And if Lance also imagined dark eyes watching him… Well, the Commander wouldn’t know.

Lance bought his hand up to work the part of his shaft his mouth couldn’t reach, gradually settling into a rhythm. It was easy to let himself get lost in the reactions he could drag out of the Commander, and he found himself making something of a game of it; He got a twitch here because he ran his hands over the larger bumps at the base, a breathy moan there when he tilted his head just so to curl his tongue against the raised veins, an actual growl followed by a string of rather descriptive praises and a hand gripping his hair when he tried to see how much of the Commander he could fit in his mouth and his teeth scraped against the side ridges. The hand at the base of the Commander’s cock gave Lance the pre-warning to move with the flex of the Commander’s hips, but God, he wished he had at least one of them free right now for himself.

Suddenly the Commander pulled Lance off of his cock, lifting him upwards and leaving only a moment of breathless awe at the casual display of raw strength before the Commander tilted Lance’s head back and licked a long stripe up his neck that finished just behind his ear. Lance couldn’t bite back on a keening whine when the Commander followed up by sucking on his neck, his mind slow to point out how dangerous it was to have those teeth, especially those teeth on an enemy, right over a major artery.

"Is something wrong?" Lance managed to ask.

"Not at all. But if you remember, I told you that I take pride in the pleasure of my playthings." The Commander replied smoothly, and Lance could hear the toothy grin in his voice. "And what kind of host would I be if I came before my guests?" He deftly slid an armoured thigh between Lance’s legs, and Lance might have whimpered at the friction, however cold and metallic, had his breath not been caught in his throat. 

Somehow, he hadn’t expected that the Commander would actually follow through on his… uh, promise? Threat? Lance decided on ‘threat’ when the Commander leaned back and looked at him for a moment with a calculating expression. ‘Threat’ was then confirmed when Lance found himself lifted easily and re-settled in the Commander’s lap, facing the rest of the room with the Galra’s cock sliding between his legs, leaving a wet trail along the front of his pants.

Oh God.

"What - what are -" Lance attempted to ask. The Commander traced a hand down Lance’s stomach, sliding across his groin and pressing against the bulge in his pants. Lance cut himself off to avoid making a whining noise.

"You’re doing this for your leader, aren’t you?" The Commander teased, the hand not pressing wonderfully against his crotch lightly scratching up Lance’s neck and tilting his head up to look out over the room. "How selfish would I be to keep you all to myself? The Champion should see what I…"

The Commander trailed off, leaving Lance to try to work out the rest of that sentence on his own. 

Lefty had given up all pretence and turned to watch Lance. Even Moriak was focused on Lance and the Commander, eyes sharp and intent as she watched (Lance had absolutely no idea what to make of that either). Lance barely noticed any of them, not when the Commander had deliberately drawn his attention to Shiro. Shiro was staring at Lance with wide eyes, and didn’t seem to know where to look either, his eyes moving all over Lance’s body until their gazes met. Lance became acutely aware that he wasn’t putting on a show to draw attention to any skills he might have any more. He wasn’t bantering back and forth, he wasn’t actively doing anything. He was just on display, as though he was worth looking at. More likely, the Commander wanted everyone to watch him turn a Paladin of Voltron into a whining mess, and put Lance in a position where he couldn’t properly reciprocate. The fact that he was hard as steel was pretty clear to the room at large, especially when the Commander slipped his hand under Lance’s waistband to press the palm of his hand against heated, throbbing flesh. 

Between the feeling of someone (really, anyone but himself) touching him again and the way he felt almost pinned in place by Shiro’s fixed stare locked onto his own probably stupid, gaping face… He felt hot enough to all but burn away. He’d definitely lost control of the situation somewhere along the way, and he wasn’t completely sure how he felt about that; His transparent excuse to take advantage of it had to have been caught out by now, triggering a feeling of shame and guilt strong enough to peek through the lust fog that blanketed most of his mind. Lance turned away, feeling his face heat up as much as the rest of his body.

Not strong enough to make him want to escape.

The Commander continued to nibble at Lance’s neck, one hand tracing claws over his chest almost absently while the other wrapped around his cock. Lance bit his lip and screwed his eyes shut, trying to stop himself from making too much noise too soon. He needed to do something with his hands to give himself something to focus on besides - 

"Ah!" Lance exclaimed, thrusting forwards despite himself as a claw lightly scratched over one of his nipples. The Commander chuckled against Lance’s ear, circling his claw around the newly discovered area.

"Interesting reaction," The Commander commented, "You’re cock practically jumped in my hand when I only brushed it. You’ve got some wonderfully obvious targets here."

"Is the commentary re-" Lance choked on a gasp as the Commander continued to play, flicking his finger over Lance’s nipple while they hardened, "-eeaaly required?"

"Absolutely," The Commander switched focus to the other side, dragging his claw around the areola. 

Lance bit back on any further comment, returning instead to his interrupted train of thought. He needed to do something with his hands, so he braced his left hand on the Commander’s thigh and licked the palm of his right, reaching down to take hold of the Commander’s cock. The position was a bit awkward, but it was worth it for the growl he got in response, and even the flex of the hand on his chest that left four scratches across his sternum.

Lance secured his grip and slowly began pumping, realising quickly that the move had the unintended side effect of pressing the shaft against his own junk in a rather pleasing way.

The Commander dragged his hand down Lance’s stomach and towards his crotch. Both his leggings and underwear were pushed down far enough to expose both his cock and his balls.

Well, if Shiro didn’t know that Lance shaved downstairs before, it was common knowledge now. 

The Commander ran his fingers along Lance’s shaft as though getting a feel for the weight of it.

"Not at all soft here, are you?" He purred into Lance’s ear, thumb pressing into the base of Lance’s cock. Lance’s breath hitched despite himself, the sound threatening to become a whine as the Commander ran the claws of his other hand over the area between Lance’s hip-bones and the dip that joined his hips to his thighs.

The Commander didn’t appear to be in a hurry (which Lance reminded himself was a good thing), taking his time to run his fingers lightly up and down Lance’s cock or run a thumb over the head to swipe up some of the pre-cum that had began to pool at the end and run down the shaft. Lance followed that hand as it traced up his own body, pausing to flick at one of his nipples before the Commander lifted his thumb to his lips. His tongue flicked out to lap at the liquid, to taste Lance while his eyes were locked on - 

Lance turned his head to follow the Commander’s line of sight to where Shiro glared back, his expression reminding Lance of stormclouds, dark and focused. Lance’s mind scrambled to try to understand what was going on. The Commander was clearly mocking Shiro, but Lance felt like he was missing something. 

"Tastes sweeter than anticipated," The Commander commented in his ear. Shiro’s eyes darted over to Lance, that dark look giving way to wide eyed surprise and something like dread before Shiro slumped over, gaze firmly fixed on the floor.

Lance tried to ignore the hurt that ran through him. Had he really thought that Shiro wouldn’t look away? Why the hell would Shiro want to be subjected to a live sex show starring Lance? Lance was the asshole here, he sure as hell had no right to feel hurt.

The Commander growled and returned his hand to it’s previous position, taking Lance’s cock in a firmer grip and beginning to pump in earnest, a delicious friction that made Lance’s toes curl and pulled a startled gasp out of him. Lance fumbled for a moment before determinedly attempting to match the pace that the Commander set on the Galra’s cock, focusing on those parts around the head that he’d learned were more sensitive.

The Commander’s other hand pressed firmly against Lance’s hip, claws leaving raised welts as the Galra groaned against Lance’s shoulder. Lance hissed and the Commander mumbled something into the back of his neck that might have been an apology. The better apology was the Commander running his fingers down the crease of Lance’s thigh to his balls, once again running his fingers over them gently and hefting them to get an idea of how sensitive they were.

Lance would be the first to admit that the answer to that question was "very", unable to stop a pleased whine from being ripped out of his throat between pants. His hips flexed just a little until he got them back under control, which the Commander clearly took for the encouragement it was. 

"You enjoy being touched here almost as much as here." He flicked Lance’s nipple to emphasise the point, and Lance took a small amount of pride in the wrecked rasp of the Commander’s voice against his ear. He physically bit his lip to avoid any noise louder than a whimper escaping. 

"Why would you try to be quiet?" The Commander continued, twisting the other peak sharply and dropping his hand back between Lance’s legs as Lance bucked upwards again. "Everyone who might hear you can already see how you look." The Commander purred. He caressed Lance’s sack, rolling his balls across his fingers and tickling them with abstract lines while his other hand pumped Lance’s cock just this side of too slow, his thumb sliding over the glans.

"Ah!-aass." Lance managed to respond. The Commander only chuckled.

Then the Commander’s fingers dropped lower almost absently, dragging the back of a claw over his taint in a zig-zag pattern towards his hole, and Lance nearly lost his mind. He swore and let his head fall back against the Commanders armoured chest, clunking his head a little harder than he meant to. It took him seconds to re-focus, to remember to move his hand, keep track of his surroundings, and oh fuck - the Commander was dragging a finger around the tight ring of muscle at the bottom of his perineum almost absently, but he’d definitely picked up on Lance’s reaction.

"What about here?" The Commander asked. "If I were to keep you, would I be able to fuck you here?"

Lance should say no, absolutely not. It didn’t necessarily matter - Lance wasn’t planning to be around long enough to even attempt to do anything, but it was the principal of the thing. Lance was already in way over his head, he didn’t need to add - 

"Yes, but it requires - uh, preparation, lubrication." Lance heard himself say breathlessly. And seriously, his brain and his mouth needed to have words, maybe come to some sort of agreement so that Lance wouldn’t start speaking without first consulting with his brain. "Lots of… uh, both. Lotta both."

"Sworvox," The Commander called over Lance’s shoulder. Righty jumped, eyes jumping up to meet the Commander’s eyes from somewhere around Lance’s groin. "Throw me the bottle lubrication you have in your pocket."

So, Righty’s name was Sworvox? That… sounded about right. 

Also, huh?!

Sworvox looked surprised. "Wh- How did you know I-" He cut himself off. Lance couldn’t see the look that the Commander was giving Sworvox over his shoulder, but he could see the cowed look that overtook Sworvox’ face as he fished around in his pockets and pulled out a small bottle. He took a couple of steps forwards before throwing the bottle underhand. 

The Commander snatched it out of the air, flipped it over quickly and handed it to Lance. 

"Show me," The Commander all but purred in his ear. 

Lance gasped. He should say no, but he’d walked this far into the wolf’s den already, riding high on someone even pretending to desire him as a show of power. He wouldn’t be saying no at this point.

After a moment of hesitation he shifted around to give himself the room to slide his leggings down over his ass, pulling his knees up and leaning back against the Commander’s chest. The Commander made a short pleased sound and looped his arm under Lance’s legs, physically picking him up and shifting him more securely onto the Galra’s lap. 

Yep, this was now officially embarrassing as all hell. 

The Commander tucked the smaller man against his chest, cock nestled up against his back as he was held in place by one of the Commander’s arms. The other hand ran up Lance’s chest and neck, tilting his head back and running a thumb along his lips. Lance panicked, worried that the Commander would try to kiss him, but the Galra instead slipped his thumb between Lance’s lips, encouraging him to lick. Lance obliged, using the moment to settle himself. The smooth, velvety texture under his tongue was an odd thing to taste himself on, rather than the usual texture of skin, or the texture of metal that Lance sometimes imagined. 

The Commander dragged his hand down again, lazily tracing scratches onto Lance’s sides and hips on his way to take hold of the paladin’s cock again and slowly, painfully slowly, slide his hand up and down the shaft. Lance moaned in relief and frustration, unable to move into or away from that hand with his legs pinned.

There was only one thing for it. Steeling his nerves, Lance carefully uncapped the bottle and let some of the liquid inside pour onto his fingers. He rubbed the fingers together, trying to get a read on how thick it was and how much he would need.

Satisfied that he had enough, Lance carefully maneuvered his hand down between his legs and ran a slick finger around his hole a few times. He bit his lip and slid the tip of his middle finger in, working the digit in shallow thrusts. Behind Lance, the Commander shifted and rolled his hips, pressing his cock into the line of Lance’s back in a long, languid undulation. The hand on Lance picked up, moving a little faster, and Lance let his head fall forwards. He screwed his eyes shut, breath coming out in fast pants and moans and let his mind go wherever it wanted as he worked first one, then two fingers into himself.

How far away could the rest of the team be at this point? Since Shiro had the tracker, Lance couldn’t see or feel any sign that the team were approaching. But they had to be close, and Shiro would know when they gave the signal. And like that, his mind was back on Shiro - 

Lance threw his head back with a sharp gasp, eyes flying open as his fingers reached that sweet spot inside him that he was normally all about. But this wasn’t… well, this wasn’t a normal situation. He needed to keep his head about him, keep his wits.

"Do that again," The Commander whispered, breathing raggedly against Lance’s ear.

Lance shut his eyes and shook his head. The Commander’s hand stilled on Lance’s cock, drawing a frustrated growl out of the blue paladin. The Commander only chuckled in response, rolling his hips against Lance again.

"I think you might have actually throbbed in my hand when you did whatever it is you just did." The Commander commented, tapping the head of Lance’s cock a couple of times. "But was it your thoughts or your hand? You’ll need to do it a couple more times for me to be sure."

"Jerk." Lance mumbled.

"Not unless you do that again." The Commander replied, grin audible in his voice.

Lance huffed, pumping his fingers a couple more times before trying to relocate the angle that let him reach far enough inside to brush his prostate. He found it after only a couple of tries, breath hitching as he targeted that spot. 

"Ngh-" Lance tried to bite his lip again, he tried to be quiet, he really did. But he was only human, and his mouth was no longer under his control. Not when the hand on his cock picked up again, not when when the hand tucked under his knees gripped his thigh hard enough for him to feel the prick of claws through the fabric.

"That’s it," the Commander purred lowly in his ear, grinding harder against his back. "Let him hear you too."

Lance’s eyes fluttered open, fixing on Shiro. All he could see was the Shiro, panting and staring at him with a hunger that Lance could only pray he wasn’t imagining. That moment of connection was like a lightning bolt of pure sex through him. A shout was torn raggedly from his chest as his orgasm crashed into him, leaving him unable to stop himself and unable to look away even as he slumped forwards. 

He managed to pull his gaze away only when he noticed his heartbeat under his hands; Huh, his hand was on his chest, when had he moved that? His head was still fizzing, mind completely blank as he felt his hips dragged back, felt the Commander’s cock slip between his thighs and thrust along his perineum, felt his thighs squeezed between the Commander’s legs, felt claws raking long lines into his side, his hips.

The Commander came with a low rumble before any thoughts returned to Lance’s head, splattering hot and thick against his thighs and stomach.

The first thought to enter his mind was _‘Shit, how am I going to distract him now?_

With the gates opened, the thoughts he’d put aside to look at later began to rush back in - _What was he thinking? He’d just had sex with the enemy, in front of Shiro. He’d cum while looking directly into Shiro’s eyes, used him… He was covered in spooge, it was stinging the scratch marks and… he must look gross. Indecent, at the very least._

Lance hung his head and fought to get his breath back, pushing those thoughts down for now. 

The Commander let out a pleased rumble and loosened his grip on Lance, letting the paladin slide down to the floor shakily. Lance wrinkled his nose at the mess he was in, but sighed and pulled his underwear and leggings up. That’d have to wait until later. Right now Lance was intensely aware of the eyes of the others in the room, of Moriak’s intense focus on him and of something that sounded suspiciously like a whimper from Lefty as Lance took a couple of steps towards the discarded parts of his armour, pulling his shirt back over his head.

Shiro’s head was bowed as Lance approached, looking down at the base of his chestplate, and the relief that Lance felt at that was almost tangible. 

The Commander stood behind Lance, one hand falling onto his shoulder so that the Commander could bend down to speak into his ear.

"I’m afraid there isn’t much I could do to spare the Champion," He drawled, sliding the bottle of lube into Lance’s hand. "But you may have just spared yourself from the same fate. I would much prefer you in my bed."

Lance knew he was wearing a shit-eating grin, but the timing was just too perfect, and when else would he get the proper action hero one liner?

"That’s funny, I only planned to give you a hard time." Lance replied. Ah well, so maybe it wasn’t the best one liner, his brain was still post-orgasmic.

The sound of an explosion rocked the ship, which Shiro took as his cue to rise from the ground with a crackle of purple electricity, the energy cord that bound him severed. In a single, smooth motion he’d knocked Lance’s bayard out of Sworvox’s hand and launched himself at Moriak. Lance took the opportunity to dive for his Bayard and switch it to rifle mode.

The Commander laughed with delight as the sounds of fighting and explosions rang out around them.


	2. Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their capture, Shiro's having some... issues when it comes to a certain Blue Paladin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Alright! Let's write me some smut!  
> Also Me: How about we make it longer than the first part?  
> Me: Uh...  
> Also Me: I'm thinking about... 3,000 words longer?  
> Me: ... Really?
> 
> Soooo yeah. This porn one-shot has turned into 24,000+ words. What. The. Hell.
> 
> I hope people enjoy this ^^;;

"I don't need medical attention," Lance insisted. "I was just knocked about a bit, that's all."

The universe hated Lance. That was the only explanation he had.

Allura seemed to have decided that both himself and Shiro should be checked over in Medical upon returning to the castle, and while Lance had figured that Shiro would need to be checked up (dude had been hit with Druid Magic after all), he hadn't expected Allura to pounce on him as soon as he tried to break away from the group.

The rest of team Voltron had all variously laid themselves out on the couches that lined those circular pits that were all over the ship, except Shiro. Shiro stood off to the side, keeping his distance and avoiding looking at Lance. He'd been doing the same thing since they got back.

"He's got a point," Pidge spoke up. At least Pidge was on his side. "Lance gets hurt a lot, he's like our expert on taking punches." Pidge was not on his side, damn her.

"Hey!" Lance complained. "I know that was supposed to be an insult, but it proves my point."

Allura stared at him carefully, weighing up her next words. Lance didn't like that look - it meant that she suspected something and she wasn't sure whether to confront him about it. Lance hadn't seen that look directed at him before, and he absolutely didn't like the sinking, hollow feeling it gave him.

"Honestly," Lance pressed. "All I really need is a shower and a nap."

Shiro flinched, just a small twitch of movement. Lance probably wouldn't even have seen it if he hadn't been hyper-aware of Shiro's presence and movements right now, looking for signs of disgust or anger. It was only a matter of time before it came out, and Lance at least wanted to be physically clean before he had to deal with it.

"That may be, but please, just humour me." Allura countered. Lance heaved his best put-upon sigh.

"Fine, fine, let's get this over with," He huffed, slouching past the rest of the team. He could feel Hunk's worried eyes on him as he passed, but Pidge and Keith were definitely more focused on Shiro, barely even acknowledging that he'd moved.

"Right this way, m'boy," Coran held open the door for him to enter. "We'll get you checked over in a jiffy."

Lance wracked his brain to try to remember all the nicks and scratches he might have gotten, how he might explain them rationally. Which would be really hard to do if he had to take his shirt off, since his body was littered with raked parallel lines, some of which had cut enough to bleed. He was probably overthinking this. Most likely, Coran would read a monitor and say "Just a few scratches, no biggie," and Lance would be on his way.

Coran closed the door behind him and walked over to a chair, taking up a seat. "Just so you know, you've got quite the bruise forming behind your ear there."

Fuck. Lance's hand flew up to the back of his neck, finding the skin slightly tender where the Commander must have left a mark. The silence that followed was heavy as Coran seemed to search for a way to ask a question and Lance tried to look anywhere but at him.

Predictably, Lance broke first.

"I didn't get hit in the head, if that's what this is about." He offered, falling into the chair opposite Coran.

"I didn't think you did," Coran replied, voice uncharacteristically gentle. "But I am going to ask you to tell me what happened."

Oh. Oh, hell. Coran thought that Lance had been sexually assaulted. No. He couldn't let Coran keep thinking that, he had to set things straight.

"No no, it wasn't like that! I was a employing a distraction tactic," Lance waved his hands emphatically. "Sort of. I started flirting, y'know, bamboozle the enemy with my sparkling personality. Then the Commander flirted back and... uh, things escalated." Lance trailed off awkwardly, not especially wanting to go into the details with Coran, of all people.

Coran continued to watch him with one eyebrow raised. "Escalated."

"Nothing happened that I didn't want to happen." Lance insisted as firmly as he could. He wasn't sure that those words were exactly true, but it was close enough to the truth that Lance was happy to run with it.

Coran sighed and shook his head. "I don't completely believe that, but if you say so, then I'll accept it."

Lance blinked owlishly at him. "You're not... I mean, are we... cool?"

"... Yes?" Coran sounded confused for a moment before snapping his fingers. "Oh! did you think I'd be mad because you physically put yourself at risk to distract the enemy?"

"Uh..." Lance responded eloquently.

"Because I absolutely am. I am enraged that you show so little regard for your life." Coran responded cheerfully. "But that's nothing new, you never show enough regard for your own life. None of you do."

"Sorry," Lance mumbled, looking down awkwardly. "Can you... can you please not tell anyone? Especially not Allura?"

"If you want," Coran agreed, looking at Lance carefully. "But I think Allura noticed that mark as well."

"Great." Lance put a hand over his eyes.

"Relax, I don't think she's so familiar with love bites that she can tell them apart from bruises immediately." Coran pet Lance on the head, and Lance shot him an unimpressed glare from between his fingers. Coran's tone turned serious. "But she's a smart woman, she'll put two and two together if she keeps looking at it. Look, I'm not happy with you trying to seduce the enemy, but it is your body, you can use it however the heck you want. I will say, however, that Allura would absolutely not want you to canoodle with someone you didn't want to canoodle with, and she's going to have a hard time believing that you weren't coerced."

Lance groaned, realising that if he had one bite, he might have others on his neck. More that his casual shirt wouldn't cover.

"I might need something that'll either fix a lot of bruises or something that'll cover them." Lance admitted. "And some antiseptic cream."

"Oh no you don't, young man." Coran gave him a flat look. "You will be taking your shirt off and letting someone who knows how to use a good two-thirds of the devices in this room take a look at you."

"The quiznack I will!" Lance exclaimed, throwing one arm over his chest, and the other over his stomach. "I'm still- all gross. I need a shower."

"And an STI test will need to be run. Don't worry though, the results will be nearly instant."

Lance groaned again.

* * *

Nothing was working. Shiro's greatest enemy had always been his own mind, but this - this was a whole new kind of torment.

He went for a run, but the rhythmic pounding of his feet hitting the floor had fallen away from his awareness almost completely, leaving him with only his thoughts. Only...

_"Exactly how far will you go for your leader, Blue Paladin?"_

_Allura's eyes as she watched Lance vanish into the room with Coran, sharp and thoughtful. Those same eyes turning on him and filling with a concern and care that should have been directed elsewhere - not at him._

_Lance's smile, shaky but reassuring. "Sorry that you have to be stuck here."_

_The line of Lance's body, smooth brown skin against black. The graceful line of his back down to the indents that sat at the base of his spine. The angles of his ribs, sharp hip-bones and the slight dip down the center of his body._

_Dark hands emphasising how narrow those hips were. How human. A growl, low and teasing- mocking. "Are you quite alright, Blue Paladin? You're trembling."_

Shiro turned sharply, as though he could somehow trick his own thoughts into continuing up the hall without him. He leaned against the wall, pressing his forehead against the cool surface until his breathing returned to normal.

_Allura running the scanner over his shoulder, the place where flesh met Galra weaponry. "It's OK if you don't want to tell me what happened. But whatever happened to you, or to Lance - I know it wasn't your fault."_

_Claws tilting Lance's sharp jaw up. "You're doing this for your leader, aren't you?"_

He threw himself back away from the wall and stalked towards the training room, planning to find a simulation he could run, something he would need to give his absolute full attention to. Shiro wouldn't normally fight alone, he felt like he'd already spent more time fighting alone then he ever wanted to in his life. More than that, if he was alone and he got lost in his own head, there was no one to help him. No one to call his name, to shoot down the threat, to knock him back.

He'd be more than willing take that risk, just for the smallest chance that his mind would stop plaguing him. For a little while it seemed like it would work - his mind honed in on the robotic opponent, calculating his movements, watching for feints. But then-

_The way Lance sounded when he gasped, when his sentences turned short and broken. Lance's focus as his tongue danced over purple hands. The slightly devious, determined look he got just before dropping to his knees in front of that Galra._

_The Commander's growled observation: "You're determined."_

_God, the flashes of Lance's face that Shiro had managed to catch, the concentration and confidence he'd worn despite having his lips wrapped around..._

The next thing Shiro knew, he was on the ground, staring at the ceiling with an energy staff at his neck.

"Killing blow. Simulation terminated." A robotic voice intoned.

Shiro sat up, placing a hand over his face to try and block out everything. Trying not to think about Lance (his smile, his hands, his warmth, his tendency towards excessive flirtation) had never been so hard before. He'd never known for sure what Lance would sound like before.

_"Everyone who might hear you can already see how you look."_

_"Your body really is the only thing valuable you have to offer."_

Shiro shook his head, trying to shake the lie out of his memory. He could tell how much those words had hurt, even as Lance had played them off. Shiro needed to tell him that it wasn't true. He was worth far more than his body alone, he was important, he shouldn't trade himself short...

He shouldn't trade himself for Shiro. Shiro wasn't worth that.

And that was the biggest problem, the thing that Shiro was trying to run away from. He'd _watched_. He'd sat there and watched as his team-mate- as Lance- offered up himself as some kind of object to be studied or played with. Offered up his body to the Galra that had captured them. Traded sex for Shiro, to keep the Galra distracted and away from him.

That Galra, the Commander, had deliberately taunted Shiro, playing up that he could touch Lance. Letting his head drop back, growling out descriptions of how good Lance felt, noting out loud how Lance reacted under his touch, how Lance felt in his hands. Proving that he had the power to make Lance gasp and writhe in his lap, that Lance was _letting_ him do it. Making sure that everyone knew that it was all because of Shiro that Lance was currently moaning against him. He'd drawn Shiro's attention to every action he took, like he could tell just looking at him that Shiro wanted to be the one with Lance's hands on him, Lance's mouth on him. The one allowed to hold and touch and taste.

_"Tastes sweeter than anticipated."_

_"If I were to keep you, would I be able to fuck you here?"_

_"Let him hear you too."_

And Shiro had watched. Taken it all in like a starving man offered human flesh as his only way of surviving. _Wanting_ to know what Lance looked like, how he sounded, how he moved. Saving all those details away for later, trying to tell himself that it was OK for now, Lance wasn't being actively hurt. Even once he remembered that Lance had passed his belt over to Shiro, along with the energy-cable cutter he'd asked Pidge to install after the Nyma incident, he could barely focus enough to actually use it. He tried to tell himself that it wasn't the time to escape, Lance was in such a vulnerable position that he could be easily killed. As if that somehow made it okay that he was watching, that all he could see was Lance-

_Lance throwing him a cheeky wink, as though this was just another day and Lance was going off to flirt with the locals._

_Lance looking directly at him, pupils blown wide, lips parted slightly, bitten red and swollen._

_Lance, eyes wide and nervous but almost black with lust, lips still slick from sucking cock._

_Lance catching him glaring at the Commander instead of trying to escape, trying to save him._

_Lance locking eyes with him as he came, fingers of one hand buried inside himself while the other played with his chest._

Shiro didn't know how he should have felt, but he was positive that possessive rage and arousal were not the right things to feel. He'd wanted to rip Lance out of that Galra's grasp, but only so that Shiro could be the one to mark him, take him, make him cry out Shiro's name. 

He should be horrified, not hard. What the hell was wrong with him? What kind of sick person would get turned on seeing someone they cared about being coerced into-

"So this is where you'd gotten to."

Shiro let his hand slip off of his face and turned towards the voice that had cut into his thoughts. Keith approached slowly, letting his feet make more noise than usual so as not to risk sneaking up on him.

Shiro wasn't sure whether to be more grateful for Keith interrupting his self-loathing, self-punishing train of thought or worried that he'd notice that Shiro was sitting in the training room hard at the memory of Lance. The Voltron armor was pretty good at hiding the latter, so Shiro settled on just being grateful.

Keith sat down just far enough away that he could look at Shiro comfortably. "Do... you want to talk to me about it?" He asked awkwardly.

Shiro smiled, a slightly hysterical laugh escaping his throat before he could stop it. "No, not really." He admitted. "Thanks for the offer though. It's... appreciated."

Keith nodded and looked at the ground thoughtfully before speaking again. "Lance... seemed OK, but he went straight to his room after Coran let him out of medical. Coran said he wasn't hurt much, but he was... He was in there for a while." Keith's eyes darted over to Shiro as he spoke, and Shiro tried as hard as he could not to look guilty.

"He asked where you were and whether you looked OK." Keith continued. "So maybe if you don't want to talk to me about it, you could talk to Lance?"

Shiro sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Thanks. I'll- I'll go check in with him."

"Good. Do that." Keith nodded, relaxing a little. Shiro couldn't help but smile at Keith's concern, for Lance as well as for Shiro. He reached out to deliberately ruffle Keith's hair before standing up, earning a disgruntled huff and a well executed deflection from the red paladin.

Making up his mind, Shiro headed to the living quarters. He needed to shower and change out of his armour before he spoke to Lance.

* * *

The door slid open with a whooshing sound to reveal Lance, wearing pyjama pants and a hoodie that was zipped up and pulled over his head. It even had the drawstring done up under his chin.

Lance seemed surprised to see Shiro, but at least he didn't look unhappy. Which was... good? Shiro was not prepared for this at all.

He'd showered unnecessarily thoroughly, trying to stall while also trying not to give in to the desire that coiled through his thoughts. He'd been so distracted when he'd left his room that he'd managed to forget his vest. Now he stood in front of an open door, feeling under-dressed and waiting for the wave of conflicting thoughts and feelings to subside before managing to speak.

"Hi," He said. Well, it was a start. "Can I come in?"

"Oh! Uh, yeah, of course. Come on in." Lance smiled and stepped aside to let Shiro step through the door and into the room itself.

The room was surprisingly uncluttered, although Shiro thought that might have less to do with Lance being a tidy person and more to do with the lack of belongings, given the way that the bed was unmade and a wet towel appeared to have been thrown at a chair. Lance looked between the chair and his bed a couple of times before grabbing the towel and slinging it into the small bathroom attached to the room.

"Sorry, I kind of just got out of the shower." He apologised, waving an arm at the chair to indicate that Shiro should sit. Shiro sat, if only to stop him from pacing.

Lance sat on the bed, pulling his legs up in front of him defensively and twisting his fingers into the end of his sleeves even as he still smiled at Shiro. "So, uh... What brings you to these parts?"

Shiro took a breath, leaning his elbows on his knees. Well, if he had to start somewhere, he may as well start with the easy part.

"You know that... that you're valuable, right?" Shiro started, peering at Lance from behind his bangs. Lance stared at him blankly. "I mean, not just your body. You, as a person, are valuable."

Lance looked honestly taken aback. He turned his head towards the head of the bed, but his posture relaxed a bit, one hand coming up inside his hood to rub at the back of his neck.

"Is this about what the Galran Commander said?" He asked, continuing on without waiting for an answer. "Because that was all just power-play stuff, I don't actually believe anything that came out of his mouth. So, it's all fine." Lance looked back at Shiro.

Shiro decided to point out the obvious. "That wasn't exactly a yes or no. You know that you're valuable as a person, right?"

Lance hesitated for only a tick before a grin took over his face. "Relax, I know it."

"Good." Shiro nodded. "Because..." And here was the slightly harder part. How should he say 'You shouldn't include 'seduce the enemy' as a part of any plan' without making it sound like an accusation of some kind?

"I don't want you to think that you..." Shiro looked down to where his hands were folded in his lap, metal thumb over flesh, "That you have to do something like that ever again." He tried. 

He peered up at Lance again, meeting his eyes to try to get his point across. Lance looked like he was searching his face for something, but Shiro couldn't think of what it might be.

"I didn't have to do it _this_ time. I chose to." Lance replied firmly, gaze flickering away as he spoke before meeting Shiro's eyes again. "I made that choice. And if throwing out orgasms will lower the danger to the rest of the team while they're trying to rescue our asses, or mean that I don't have to watch you get hurt again?" Lance looked away, hand tracing out dismissive circles between them. "Of course I'm going to do it. Not like I got nothing out of it anyway."

"That isn't the point!" Shiro responded, more forcefully than he intended. "Lance, I watched you. You asked me not to look and I - I couldn't do it. I watched. I watched you go down on him, I watched him touch you- I watched everything." Lance shivered, and Shiro immediately felt awful for bringing it up so crudely. He closed his eyes and took a breath to try to steady himself, try to calm down. 

"Don't make me watch you trade yourself like that again. Not for me, not for anyone," Shiro finished. He couldn't do that again, not when his mind kept plying him with every image he'd stored away in the dark places inside himself, using what he knew now to invent new scenarios or just embellish old ones.

He nearly jumped out of the seat when Lance leaned forwards and placed a hand on his arm. Lance retracted his hand quickly, pulling it into his chest, and Shiro got the urge to apologise.

Lance beat him to it.

"Look, I'm... I'm not going to apologise for fucking the Commander. But I- I am sorry you were stuck there." Lance slumped down, looking dejected. "Thinking about it, I put you in a bad position, and I shouldn't have done that. That was really selfish on my part. So, I... I mean, I understand if you're angry or grossed out. But I don't want things to be weird between us, so... Is there anything I can actually do that will make this be not awkward?"

Shiro found himself speechless. Lance was apologising to _him_? Suggesting that Shiro might be the one that found _Lance_ disgusting, when he was the one who- No, this was all backwards. Shiro might have laughed at the absurdity, except that he caught sight of something dark on the side of Lance's neck. Before he realised what he was doing he'd reached out, loosened the drawstring and slid the hood off of Lance's head. The move revealed raised scratch marks across his shoulder and a couple of red, circular love-bites along his neck. The darkest of them even had scrapes where the Commander's teeth had been.

Shiro pulled his hands back as though he'd been burnt, eyes fixed on the marks. His mind reminded him of every moment that Lance might have gotten them, replayed the keening sound he'd made, traced out the flex of his neck as he swallowed. The urge to pin Lance down, to bite those marks and make them his own welled up within Shiro, humming in the background of his thoughts and making the room feel suddenly far too hot.

Lance sighed, tucking the collar of his jacket back closer around his neck. "Coran gave me some cream that'll help them fade, and I think I've got something to cover them up in the meantime. So hey, you're not going to get that reminder at least."

Shiro dragged his eyes away from Lance's neck and the bites that covered it. He opened his mouth, tried to make the words come out, but there was nothing. He had to say something, he had to make sure that Lance knew that Shiro's problem wasn't the marks themselves, it was his reaction to them.

"Can you be okay with knowing I... watched someone use you that way?" Shiro managed, and that's not what he meant to say or how he meant to say it.

Lance turned towards Shiro, face a picture of surprise. "Watched someone-?"

Shiro gripped his pants, twisting the fabric in his fingers. "That Galran kept saying that you were letting him touch you because of me. He- He fucked you in front of me, told me that it was my fault, and I..." He turned away and hid his face in his hand. The words came awkwardly as he tried to pull the twisting threads of desire, affection and envy into them, to make Lance understand. "I care about you, but all I could think about was how badly I wanted to be the one touching you and leaving those marks. I didn't just watch, I was so damn turned on that I couldn't think straight."

Shiro forced himself to look up, to look Lance in the eye. "Can you be okay with tha-?" He sucked in a surprised breath at Lance's expression; His pupils were blown wide, lips parted as his tongue darted out over his lower lip. He looked _hungry_ , trembling and tense as he held himself almost rigid.

"I wanted you to watch." Lance whispered, voice husky. "I got off because you were watching me. I probably wouldn't have kept going, but I kept imagining you watching... It felt like it was as close as I was ever going to get to you touching me that way. I wanted to pretend for a while that you wanted me."

... Oh.

Oh!

Maybe Lance was trying to give him a final chance to change his mind, but Shiro wasn't going to take it, despite knowing he shouldn't inflict someone like himself on Lance.

"I do want you." He admitted, his own voice low and gravelly. Saying that out loud seemed to tug at a part of that tangle of emotions that had taken up residence in his mind, loosening them. So he kept going. "I want to- hold you, see you come apart, be the one to make you cum."

Lance gasped, eyes slipping to half-closed as a tremor ran through him again, and it occurred to Shiro that it might not have been disgust that caused him to shake last time. 

"You've already seen that today," Lance breathed out. "I came because of the way you looked." He looked up at Shiro through his eyelashes, unsure but hopeful. "And the way you were looking at me."

Oh, hell. Shiro groaned, anything resembling rational thought flying out of his mind and replaced with the need to touch Lance, and touch him now.

"I want- Can I-?" He stumbled out, leaning forwards, reaching towards Lance.

"Yes. Yes, now. Please." Lance mumbled, surging forwards to run his hands up Shiro's shoulders and behind his neck, pulling himself forwards onto his knees to reach Shiro's mouth. 

Their mouths met, less a kiss and more a desperate press of soft lips against his, mouthing 'yes' and 'please' into his skin. Shiro's eyes slipped closed as he pushed forwards, sliding completely out of the chair and leaning over Lance. Lance let himself be tipped backwards by the movement, switching from urgent words to softer kisses pressed against him with a low moan that sent pure need through Shiro's body like a bolt of electricity. Shiro braced his metal arm against the bed, his other hand sliding onto Lance's neck, fingertips against those marks that Shiro realised he would actually have a chance to touch, to kiss, to soothe, to bite down on and make his own. Leave some new ones, maybe gain some of his own. 

That thought pulled something that sounded almost like a growl out him, which Lance answered with a whine and another shiver. Shiro slid his hand up to the back of Lance's head, fingers combing through the short strands before gripping them and using them to guide Lance backwards, letting Shiro rest a knee on the bed beside Lance's legs. Lance gave easily, arching his back to press closer to Shiro's and resting more weight on the arm around the back of Shiro's neck, fingers gripping onto his shirt to hold himself up. Lance's other hand moved gently to trace the line of Shiro's jaw and come to rest against his cheek, the soft touch a direct contrast to the feverish kiss.

Lance's tongue stroked against Shiro's lips lightly with ticking, barely-there touches that set his nerves tingling. Shiro was nowhere near as delicate in his response, chasing the muscle back into Lance's mouth with his own to rub along it, curling his tongue back to run the tip along the inside of Lance's lips before pushing in further again. Whether Lance took this as permission or a challenge Shiro wasn't sure, but he tried to follow Shiro's tongue with his own, curling around it nimbly. He pulled back just far enough to nip playfully at Shiro's bottom lip before diving back in and drawing Shiro's tongue into the dance he'd set up. Shiro hummed in pleasure, and Lance swallowed the sound with an answering muffled hum of his own. He slid his fingers along Shiro's jaw, then dropped them to rest on Shiro's wrist against his pulse-point, hands soft and cool against Shiro's feverish skin.

He'd always secretly imagined that Lance would be either inexperienced but enthusiastic, or a passionate and aggressive kisser. He had no idea why he'd never considered 'wholehearted and playful'.

Lance drew back, panting as though he'd forgotten to breathe, and Shiro realised that he wasn't much better when he opened his eyes and caught a short glimpse of kiss-swollen lips and wide-eyed amazement on Lance's face. He smiled at that expression until Lance yanked himself forwards again, mouthing along Shiro's jawline almost desperately and dragging his teeth against Shiro's neck. A low, rumbling moan escaped Shiro entirely without his say so, but given the reaction it got from Lance, Shiro was happy to do it more often.

"Fuck," Lance all but whined against his neck, "How are you so..." He finished that statement with a muffled exclamation into Shiro's pulse-point, darting his tongue out to lap at the skin and undulating his body upwards to try to get more of it in contact with Shiro. Shiro got the ridiculous urge to reprimand him for his language, but that would have gone against what he wanted most.

He wanted more of those sounds, more of a taste, more of _Lance_.

He tugged at Lance's hair, maneuvering the brunette off of his neck, leaving Lance blinking up at him in hazy confusion while he straddled Lance's lap, settling himself more securely on the bed. He pressed his metal hand into the middle of Lance's back to bring him closer while tipping him backwards. Lance squeaked a little at the manhandling, cutting the sound off with a pleased sigh when Shiro dipped his head down to press his mouth to the smooth column of Lance's neck. He tried to go slowly, to tease the man in his arms, but It took almost every shred of restraint he had left in him. He dragged his teeth along the tendon, scraping a line of soft kisses down to the junction of Lance's neck and shoulder, while Lance made breathy moans that sounded like there might have been murmured words underneath them, too quiet to be heard.

Then Lance uttered a broken version of Shiro's name, breath hitching half-way through, and any thoughts Shiro might have had about going slow were well and truly washed away. 

He used the grip he still had in Lance's hair to tilt Lance's head up and plant biting kisses on his lips before dropping his hand to slide it up under the hoodie Lance was wearing. Warm skin met his fingertips, softness with slight scarring creating a wonderful texture contrast under the roughened surface of his hands. Shiro felt like he might be able to spend hours just running his hands over Lance's body. 

Lance licked at his lower lip as if still tracing the feel of Shiro against him, eyes alight with something that the older man couldn't quite name. Lance's fingers twisted into the fabric of Shiro's shirt to support himself, letting him tip his head back and offer up his throat to Shiro's mouth. Shiro's already tenuous control was not even remotely up to withstanding such a blatant invitation, warm affection almost drowned out by a thrill of need lighting up his nerves at the show of trust.

God, if he was going to stop, it needed to be now. That would be the right thing to do, they should talk about this, work it out like-

"Come on," Lance breathed out, nervous and needy, and there went every last shred of responsibility Shiro had left in him as well. That ship had sailed, and Shiro wasn't even on the docks to watch it go.

"Lance," Shiro groaned in response, a desperate, raw sound that drew an answering gasp from Lance. Shiro took full advantage of the offered throat by honing in on one particular bite mark that had been left right at the base of Lance's neck, running his tongue around the reddened edges.

"Shir-Ngh!" Lance began, cut off by Shiro sucking a little harder at the skin under his teeth, not enough to mark but enough to be felt on the already tender skin. "If you w-want to bite, it's fi-aah! It's fine."

Shiro didn't hesitate before giving in to his desire and locking his teeth onto that mark with a relieved sigh, pressing his tongue against the skin within it. And Lance- God, Lance bowed backwards in his arms with a stuttered, gasping exclamation, lean body rolling against his own, bringing Lance's obviously hard cock into clumsy contact with Shiro's.

Shiro sucked in a sharp breath and pressed back, even the awkward friction a relief given how hard he was. He released the skin he'd been worrying on, tracing the tip of his tongue over the new marks a couple of times before sitting back to look, the heat that had been swirling low in his body rising with an unfamiliar sense of satisfaction at the sight of the now darker red impressions against brown skin. A mark he'd been _permitted_ to make. Even better, Lance l was panting raggedly, looking up at him with an expression hazed over with lust.

He'd done that. 

Lance blinked a few times, eyes slowly coming into focus on Shiro. He pulled himself upwards, planting hurried kisses at the base of Shiro's neck while running his hands along the black paladin's shoulders and down his chest, pressing his hands flat against the firm muscle of his pecs. Lance flexed his hands a couple of times, massaging the flesh of Shiro's chest and letting his fingers trace out the dips and curves. He bit his lip and looked up at Shiro through his eyelashes, watching his face while dragging a thumb deliberately over the visible bumps that Shiro's nipples made through the fabric. Shiro let himself press into the touch, let himself react to it the way he wanted to as the move sent another frisson of heat down to coil in his hips. Lance took the encouragement and locked his mouth over one of those bumps, laving his tongue over the fabric. The urge for Shiro to close his eyes and just feel wared with the desire to keep his eyes open and watch Lance as he pressed his mouth against Shiro's chest, teeth working the nipple through the cloth of his shirt. Especially with Lance making those small, breathy noises like he was the one being touched rather than Shiro.

Not that Shiro was much better, prosthetic hand tangling in Lance's hair and pushing himself against the brunet, rolling his hips forwards instinctively when Lance bit and tugged at one teat before moving over to the other side. He could admit that his chest was a hot-spot for him in general, which Lance seemed to pick up on judging by the way he dragged his nails over the newly vacated wet patch, flicking the now hardened peak under his shirt.

"Lance-" Shiro growled as he tipped his head forwards and rolled his hips against the smaller man again, just to watch Lance whimper, watch his hands flex desperately against Shiro's body, watch him press his face against Shiro's chest and mouth words blindly into the fabric. 

"Off. Off, please." Lance whined, muffled into Shiro's chest as he began clawing at the back of Shiro's shirt. "Want- Want skin. Now."

Shiro hesitated. He didn't like taking his shirt off in front of anyone, owing mostly to the mess of scars all over his body. Especially the precise, straight scars where his prosthetic joined the rest of him. He wasn't ashamed of them exactly, but he found that he couldn't help being self-conscious, no matter how often he told himself that it was ridiculous. Lance had seen all of it before anyway, and... well, he'd seen a lot of Lance today. It was really only fair.

Steeling himself, Shiro crossed his arms and grabbed at the hem of his shirt, dragging it up over his head. He hadn't even pulled it all the way off before Lance was on him again, mouthing 'yes' over and over into his skin, hands tracing up his back, down his sides, over his stomach and chest, almost anywhere he could reach. Lance's enthusiasm eradicated any lingering doubts Shiro might have had, especially when Lance traced one of the longer scars with his tongue. His hands pressed firmly onto both pecs, kneading at them with a relieved groan, and Shiro sunk into the touch.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked with an amused huff. 

"Do you know how many times I've imagined being able to do this?" Lance asked breathlessly, resting his forehead against Shiro's sternum and tracing shapes over his chest, spelling out nonsense with his thumbs, "Because I can tell you right now, the answer is just... so many times." He flattened his hands again, cupping Shiro's chest and rubbing in circles. "And somehow it's better than I imagined. I mean, look at this! Your tits barely fit in my hand!"

Shiro rumbled out a laugh that trailed off into a gasp as Lance attacked his chest again, this time with teeth and tongue upon his nipples until Lance let up with a flick of his tongue and drifted up again to suck at Shiro's collar bone. Desire roared back into a full fire within him, but the moment of reprieve had given him a chance to re-focus. There were things he wanted to do to Lance, if Lance would let him.

He grabbed at Lance's hands as they skimmed down over his sides, pinning them to the bed beside the blue paladin. Lance made a small, confused noise, trailing off into a moan when Shiro attacked his mouth again.

"Your turn," Shiro purred, thrilling in the gasp that earned him, the way Lance still tried to rock up into him. "Leave your hands there."

"Not- fair." Lance complained, voice cracking even as he gripping the blankets below him obediently.

Shiro smiled at him and took hold of the zipper of Lance's hoodie. Lance's hands flexed nervously in the sheets when Shiro began to drag the tag down, bending his head to trace light kisses along Lance's neck. Only once the zip was completely down and Shiro could run both hands up along Lance's skin did he sit back to look at the man he was unwrapping like a present.

Lance wasn't wearing a shirt under the hoodie, and the newly exposed skin bore a number of scratches that surprised Shiro, despite the fact that he'd seen Lance get all of them. Most were small, lightly raised lines that looked like they could have been done with human nails if not for the distance between them. For others the lines were hard enough that the skin had obviously broken and bled, even though none of them were bleeding now. The four scratches across the blue paladin's sternum were clearly of the second kind, and the fact that Lance was wonderfully flushed across his chest and down to the top of his ribs made the parallel lines stand out more.

The surge of anger that someone had hurt a member of his team, had hurt his- hurt Lance, wasn't as sharp or proprietorial as his reaction to the love bites. He didn't want to eradicate those lines or go over them with his own like the marks across Lance's neck, he wanted to soothe the scratches and use them as a guide to touch every part of Lance that the Commander had touched, wipe away all evidence that he'd even been near the younger man. Yes, Shiro wanted to leave his own marks across Lance's skin, but not marks that could be mistaken for anyone else's.

Besides, all the scratches should be on himself. 

The thought of Lance, skin clear of all injuries aside from those that Shiro's hands and mouth had made and clinging to him hard enough to leave the indents of his nails on Shiro's skin, was just another ingredient to throw into the swirling cocktail of heat and want that seemed to have taken over. Knowing that he had been invited to touch and take had already set it running along his nerves like wildfire, especially when he looked down at Lance leaning back on his arms, stomach trembling lightly with the effort, biting his lip and watching Shiro's movements with nervous arousal.

Shiro ran his hands up Lance's sides, realising that he'd left his glove on when the fabric came between him and the scratches along Lance's ribs. He ripped it off of his hand, using his teeth to unfasten the strap around his wrist and throwing the offending fabric behind him. Hand free, he pressed his now bare palm against the lines across Lance's chest, feeling the heat of the flush and sweat.

Lance's eyes fluttered closed, arching into the touch as though it were magnetic to him. Shiro pressed Lance backwards to lie on the bed, leaning over him to whisper in his ear and explain exactly what he had in mind.

"Everywhere he touched you- everywhere he asked you to touch yourself, I'm going to touch you there," Shiro growled, voice already so heavy with desire and anticipation that he barely recognised it as his own. "Then... I want more. I want to make you come apart. Can I?"

Lance swallowed a keening sob as fine tremors ran under Shiro's hands. "Fuck, yes. What-whatever you want, i-it's yours, I'm yours, please-"

Shiro groaned and fastened his mouth over Lance's throat, trying to calm down in the face of Lance's best efforts to completely rob him of his senses. His metal arm was braced over Lance's head, but that still left him a hand free to run up Lance's body, memorising the lines by touch, feeling the soft, smooth skin in between raised scrapes and small scars, tracing lightly around the raked lines along his torso. He sat back to watch his hands slide over Lance's body, gentle touches over every scratch visible, and realised quickly that he was sitting over Lance's very _very_ hard cock when Lance rolled his hips up into Shiro.

"Shi-Shiro!" Lance cried breathlessly, arms tense beside him with the effort of keeping them still. Shiro placed a hand low on his chest, watching the answering ripple of lean muscle under Lance's skin. He rolled his hips against the younger man, just once or twice, before he ducked forwards to bite at the swell of Lance's chest, laying himself across the body of the man below him and finding himself pressing his own cock into Lance's hip with another undulation. At this rate Shiro was in danger of coming in his pants like an inexperienced teenager before he got Lance off. He slid backwards down Lance's legs towards the edge of the bed, removing himself from the immediate temptation of Lance's hips.

"I like that. Say my name again." Shiro instructed between bites down Lance's chest, tracing lines along his skin to scrape over one of the dark bumps that adorned his chest.

"Of course..." Lance started, sucking in a breath as Shiro played, hands still twisted decisively into the sheets beneath him. "Ta-ah! Takashi... Shir-oh!"

Shiro stilled, not expecting his birth name to come out of Lance's mouth.

"Shiro?" Lance breathed out, concern peaking through the arousal. Shiro answered by sliding up to kiss Lance firmly and run his tongue across Lance's upper lip.

"Yes?" Shiro breathed into Lance's jaw before mouthing small kisses down his neck, across his collarbones and down his sternum to those scratches. A question occurred to Shiro, and he dragged his left hand down Lance's body to press between them over Lance's crotch to check.

Sure enough, Lance was definitely not encumbered by underwear under his pyjama bottoms. Shiro could even feel the pre-cum seeping through the fabric, leaving a damp patch just at the top of Lance's cock. His mouth watered at the thought of it.

Lance bucked into the light touches even as he pressed his chest upwards to meet Shiro's mouth. "I mean - I was gonna say - That is, I wasn't gonna say... Uh, sorry that I sai-mmmng!" Shiro deliberately cut Lance off by latching his teeth onto one nipple, worrying the flesh lightly before letting them go and blowing cold air across Lance's chest.

"This is why I'm not allowed to speak during sex." Lance muttered, just barely audible to Shiro. He'd apparently reached the end of his ability to obey instructions as well, since his hands released the sheets to wrap around Shiro's shoulders, rubbing along the short hairs at the back of his head with one hand.

Shiro growled and bit at the other side of Lance's chest, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. He hoped that got his opinion on that idea across. Lance grabbed onto Shiro's shoulders and pitched his hips upwards beneath him, a gasped sound escaping despite Lance biting his own lips. His hands slipped to Shiro's waistband and grabbed at the fabric.

"I- I'd really like to suck your dick." He announced. Shiro's thoughts turned to static, absolutely nothing coherent coming though except...

"No."

* * *

Lance was in heaven. There was no other way to explain it - he had to have died on that Galra warship and gotten some sweet after-life rewards deal, because right now he was pinned under _Shiro ___; kind, incredible, devastatingly attractive, brave... Okay, Lance could string together adjectives all day, because this was _Shiro_.

Shiro, who went from Lance's hero to a real, flesh-and-blood person that Lance could be friends with, to someone that Lance was crushing on hard.

Shiro, whose attention Lance _craved_.

Shiro, who said that he _wanted_ Lance.

Shiro, who wanted to _mark_ Lance.

Shiro, who seemed to be on a mission to drive Lance completely out of his mind with stimulation, and he hadn't even gotten his _pants_ off yet. Lance was starting to wonder if he could come just from the sound of Shiro's voice and the feel of those amazing lips against his neck. Hell, he suspected that the answer might be 'yes', because Lance was rapidly losing the ability to think at all, let alone coherently.

Shiro, whom Lance had just called by his first name despite having _never_ called him anything other than "Shiro" or "Boss". Because sexy-brain Lance was an idiot.

Shiro, who... had just said no to a blowjob.

"...Huh?" Lance asked in confusion. "No?"

Shiro's raked his eyes up Lance's body, licking his own lips in a way that couldn't help but draw Lance's attention. A rosy flush had run down over Shiro's chest, but now it was also dusting his cheeks. Lance wanted to kiss it.

"No." Shiro leaned forwards, kissing along Lance's shoulder. As far as distraction techniques went, it was pretty good.

"You realise you're not just turning down oral, you're turning down a chance to make me stop talking. People have offered to pay me for that chance." Lance pointed out, only registering that he really hadn't meant to say that out loud after it was too late to stop himself. Sure, thinking that he really needed to invest in a gag to keep him from saying the wrong thing had led him to him imagining Shiro shutting him with his cock, which - yes please, that was something he definitely wanted. But that was supposed to be the internal thoughts, not the spoken thoughts.

Shiro bit at his shoulder before sitting back, cupping Lance's face with his left hand and looking away self-consciously.

"If you put these anywhere near my cock" His thumb skimmed Lance's lower lip as he spoke, the light touch sparking over skin that he'd bitten into being far more sensitive than usual. "I'm pretty sure I would not last at all."

Oh- Fuck. Lance heard himself actually whimper at that, but he couldn't help it. Shiro saying things like that seemed to bypass his brain completely and plug directly into his spine; his body didn't feel like it was under his control any more.

"Want that. That's not convincing me that it isn't an awesome idea." Lance countered, sliding his hands around to the front of Shiro's pants and pressing against the bulge he found there. Shiro leaned into it, stomach flexing with the slightest roll of his hips, head tilted back and to the side before it was tipped forwards to look down at Lance, dark eyes re-focusing on him. Every line of his body showed power and strength, and damn he was beautiful.

"You're beautiful," He blurted out, and seriously sexy-brain, that was not what he was meant to say. Shiro's eyes widened in surprise, which was fair, it was a bit of a tangent from the topic of 'Why Shiro should definitely let Lance blow him'. Lance licked at his lips, tasting Shiro still on them and drawing the older man's eyes to focus on the movement. He turned his head to catch Shiro's thumb and deliberately lick at it, figuring that it both illustrated his point and gave him a moment to carefully try and plan out his next words so that it didn't dissolve into a nonsense stream of begging.

"I want more, to- to show you - show how badly I want it- fuck, I wanna swallow you down. You said you wanted to touch me everywhere." Was the best he could come up with. At least it felt like it was mostly whole sentences.

Shiro growled and dove forwards, moving his thumb out of the way to replaced it with his lips. The hand by Lance's cheek tightening against his jaw and the slightest dip of Shiro's tongue against his mouth sent crackles of pleasure through his mind. Of course Shiro would be a fantastic kisser, Lance never doubted it.

"Lance-" Shiro mumbled into his lips before pushing himself onto his knees, hand flying to his waistband. Lance gladly took that as ascent on Shiro's part, sliding himself backwards so that he could sit up and mouth at Shiro's stomach (holy crow, he had an actual line down the middle of his stomach and that Adonis' belt thing. It almost looked like there was an arrow pointing straight at his dick, as if Lance didn't already have that destination in mind) while his hands took over the task of getting Shiro out of his pants and into Lance. Shiro rested his metal arm on the wall behind Lance's head and tangled the fingers of his left hand into Lance's hair, grip bordering on harsh.

Lance got Shiro's fly down, revealing the definite outline of his cock through the black underwear underneath (Shiro kind of had a colour scheme going on here, not that Lance minded much with how good Shiro looked in black), and Lance had to bite his lip again to avoid moaning, because damn, Shiro was packing some serious heat down here.

He slid a little further down and took hold of Shiro's hips, moving so that he could mouth along Shiro's shaft through his underwear, tormenting himself just a little for the purpose of getting a feel for the size and girth of the other man. He kissed up the hard length and pressed his tongue against the head of Shiro's cock where it nearly slipped through the waistband of his underwear despite being pulled to the side. As if the sight alone wasn't enough, the warm smell of Altean cleaning gel and the definite scent of Shiro and arousal filled his nose and sent a shiver down his spine.

"Mercy," Lance mumbled against Shiro's still covered length before tugging at the elastic top of his briefs, sliding them down to expose his cock, flushed hard with a slight upwards curve, dark purple-red and almost painful looking. 

Lance felt like he should be saying a prayer of thanks to someone. Instead, he leaned forwards to delicately run the tip of his tongue up the head, from the seam at the bottom all the way up, tasting the fluid that had gathered at the slit. Shiro groaned above him, and Lance couldn't resist looking up along Shiro's body with as much of a victorious smirk as he could manage around an open mouth and his own tongue poking out.

That smirk was immediately knocked off his face in favour of a gasp. Shiro's eyes were closed beneath furrowed brows and he was panting, and oh God, _Lance_ could not have been the one that did that to him, could he? He hadn't even done anything yet! But Shiro opened his eyes to look down at Lance, and he felt like his whole body was speared in place, burnt through by the pure heat of it. Shiro looked ravenous, as though it were taking everything he had not to push himself down Lance's throat.

Oh- there was a thought Lance didn't expect to find so appealing. Shiro was always so in control and so focused on others that the idea of him taking anything for himself made Lance's blood feel like it was fizzing through his veins. He didn't want Shiro to hold back.

A thoroughly undignified noise rose out of Lance's chest as he pulled himself in to meet Shiro, any thought of teasing completely gone. His lips slid over the smooth head of Shiro's cock, drawing a deep groan from the larger man accompanied by an instinctive flex of his hand in Lance's hair, tightening his grip to just this side of painful. He flicked his tongue over the slit again, collecting just a little more of the pre-cum that had leaked and reveling in the taste before swirling his tongue around the head as best he could, given how much of his mouth was taken up by the sheer girth. Still, Lance was determined to show off every skill he had; if he was good, Shiro might let him do this again.

Shiro's breath hitched and his hips flexed, thrusting shallowly into Lance's mouth. Lance moaned in response, unable to say 'please' or 'more' or 'fuck, you're so hard / big / hot' or any of the ridiculous things that wanted to spill out of him. Instead, he pulled Shiro's hips forwards, taking in as much of Shiro's length as he could before it hit the back of his throat and cut off any noise he might make completely. He pulled back far enough to let himself breathe and flatten his tongue against the vein along the underside of Shiro's cock, pressing up against it as he slid his mouth up and down the shaft.

Shiro half-swore above him, hips moving in short, controlled thrusts in time with Lance's movements, and damn if that wasn't stupidly sexy. He looked up, wanting the proof that he had Shiro's full attention, and felt a rush of pride and heat when he saw that the black paladin's focus was completely on him, dripping with lust and something wild just barely held in check. He couldn't quite believe that it was all for him. Lance held Shiro's gaze, pulling him forwards until the head of his cock hit the back of Lance's throat again, sliding a little further before he swallowed around it and drew back with a hum.

Shiro huffed a low exclamation and jerked his hips forwards, rocking back into Lance's mouth with more force and less control then he'd had up to this point. Lance's cock actually _twitched_ with the spike of desire that shot through him, and he tried to hum to show his approval. It came out as more of a whine.

"Still- Good?" Shiro asked, hips moving in short, restless rolls. Lance placed his hand over the one Shiro still had tangled in his hair and nodded his head, figuring Shiro would get the idea.

Shiro's eyes widened even further before he screwed them shut, an almost pained rumble echoing through his chest as his hips shot forwards. He grabbed Lance's hand from his hip, interlacing his metal fingers with Lance's and pressing both their hands back to the wall. The gesture sent warm affection through Lance's chest to mix with the lust, spurring on his determination to be good at this and give Shiro the best damn head he was able. He moaned around Shiro's length, trying to meet his movements and take in more of him, but the hand in Lance's hair held him steady. He had to settle for letting his tongue play just behind Shiro's glans and rolling it along the underside of his cock as he fucked into Lance's mouth.

"Lance- I..." Shiro rasped out a warning and man, he wasn't kidding about not lasting. Lance moaned again, eyes closed and technique discarded in the face of Shiro's hips falling out of rhythm and the thrumming of rushing blood against his tongue as Shiro's orgasm rippled through him.

Shiro squeezed Lance's hand as he came with a low, rumbling growl, hips snapping forwards to drive his cock as far into Lance's mouth as he could get. The first pulse of cum hit the back of Lance's throat with a surprising force, and he swallowed quickly, trying not to choke. More of the hot, thick fluid flooded his mouth, spilling out the sides when Shiro gasped and pulled back, apparently deciding he'd pushed too far in. Lance refuted that with a desperate sound he was pretty sure he'd never made before, the noise rising up from his chest only to be cut off again by another splash of cum. 

Shiro pulled free of his mouth, and Lance attempted to lap at the last vestiges of Shiro's release that clung to the end of his length, looking up at Shiro as he did. Shiro released his grip on Lance's hair and panted, eyes fluttering open to focus down on Lance. 

Then the world tilted suddenly as Lance was thrown sideways onto the bed, Shiro executing the maneuver with the same grace and certainty he used in hand-to-hand combat. 

"Shi-Shiro!" Lance squeaked, and holy crow his voice was _wrecked_. He was rolled onto his back and pinned to the mattress with his hands beside his head as Shiro re-positioned himself over Lance, knees bracketing his hips.

The heat in Shiro's eyes didn't seem to have abated at all, despite the fact that he was still panting from exertion and all Lance could taste right now was his release. Even his smile looked a little wild while his hands slid down Lance's arms, leaving trails of cool fire in their wake.

Shiro's right hand came to rest on the left side of Lance's chest, and the stray thought of _'Can he feel my heart pounding through the prosthesis?'_ danced through Lance's mind too fast to really catch. Thankfully, it also remained unsaid in favour of a sharp inhale as Shiro's left hand continued down, tracing over Lance's stomach to slip under the waistband of his pants. Shiro's fingers brushed against the head of his cock, knees locking against his hips when Lance tried to press into the barely-there touch.

"Pl-ngh-ah!" Lance started, fully intending to beg. His voice didn't co-operate, and Shiro ignored him anyway. Instead, he ran a finger through the pre-cum that had pooled around the head of his cock, collecting some of the fluid and... Wait, was Shiro going to... Lance's eyes flicked up to Shiro's face, a question ready on the tip of his tongue only to have it dissolve moments later under the intensity and focus that Shiro had on him. Lance whimpered, pretty sure he'd forgotten how to breathe.

Holding his gaze, Shiro pulled his hand back up and moved to swipe a thumb over the cum that had leaked out of Lance's mouth, combining the two fluids. Shiro then slowly, deliberately, licked the mix off of his finger.

Oh. Oh fuck.

It was starting to seem like whines and pants and moans were all he was capable of saying right now. Another whine escaped his chest, his mind blanking out completely and leaving only fizzy whiteness. Like his brain had been replaced with a glass of Alka seltzer.

What did they taste like together?

"Perfect." Shiro answered his unasked question in a husky whisper.

Lance pressed upwards against the hand that pinned him down, grateful that Shiro dipped down to meet him so that his lips could collide inelegantly with Shiro's. Shiro kissed back with more control and more finesse, even as he licked the taste of his own release out of Lance's mouth. He pulled back too soon, but Lance couldn't find it in him to complain when Shiro nipped and kiss lines down his neck and chest, pausing over the scratches he knew marred his skin right now to kiss around them. Lance wanted to tell Shiro that he really didn't need anymore foreplay here, he was well and truly ready to get off however Shiro wanted him to get off. Except that the words wouldn't come out, and Shiro had apparently decided that the way he wanted Lance to get off was 'not at all'.

He heard a half-whispered, half rasped "Not enough... More," and Lance was going to die. Shiro was going to kill him. He'd just combust and then poof - no more Lance.

Shiro continued steadily down his body, sucking marks into his skin over his ribs and hipbones, trailing his tongue along the crease his ribcage made as it dove down towards his hips, either ignoring Lance's pleas for more or enjoying them too much to stop. Each touch was like a new point of fire along Lance's body, sparking along his nerves. He scratched his hands along the short hairs at the back of Shiro's head and dug his fingers into the muscles of Shiro's back, partly to have something to ground him, partly to urge Shiro on.

"Lift your hips." Shiro purred into Lance's stomach. Lance complied immediately, letting Shiro slide his pants down over his hips and down to his knees, where Lance could maneuver them off completely, leaving him in just a hoodie. Shiro studied him carefully, spreading Lance's legs and settling himself between them. He licked his lips, and Lance's cock jumped as he shivered under the force of that much attention on him. He even gave some thought to taking himself in hand, but then... this might be over. Lance wanted to cum so, so badly, but he wanted to enjoy every second that Shiro was touching him. Wanted to make it last as long as he possibly could.

"Please," Lance managed, and oh thank god - words had returned to him. A few of them anyway, mostly begging words; even if he wasn't sure exactly what he was asking for right now.

Shiro placed his hands over the large, particularly deep scratch marks that Lance had over his thighs and hip. Lance had almost forgotten about them, but Shiro didn't appear to have. He bent forwards to kiss each mark, running his tongue between them and nipping along the unmarked parts of Lance's thighs before sucking against the seam between Lance's leg and crotch, tugging at the tightly coiled arousal nestled in Lance's hipbones with his teeth and leaving dark marks to match his neck across his pelvis. Lance's tried to buck into the touch, but Shiro's hands held him firmly down.

"I said I wanted to touch you everywhere, didn't I?" Shiro asked, the corner of his mouth pulled up in a way that on Lance would be a smirk, but on Shiro looked like pleased confidence. Lance blinked at him, mind taking far too long to catch up.

Shiro ran the flat of his tongue along the underside of Lance's length before he'd caught on. Lance cried out in surprise, hands tightening against Shiro as he fought to hold on, half convinced he'd fall out of reality and fly away somewhere. Or cum really, really quickly.

Whatever else, Lance was not going to go off like a rocket the first time Shiro touched his dick.

He managed to move his hands to grip into the sheets as Shiro picked his legs up and pressed them along his body, bending him almost in half easily. Lance cut off a rasped cry at the move, too far gone to even notice the undignified position. He bit his lip and watched enraptured as Shiro looked up along his body, all carnal beauty and control.

Shiro leaned into Lance, eyes closing as he ran the tip of his tongue across Lance's balls, swirling abstract shapes over them. Lance didn't even try to stop his reaction, arching his back and wailing.

"M-More, please- Shiro!" He gasped out. Shiro hummed in response, sending vibrations through Lance that had him trying to push into Shiro's mouth, toes curling with the rush of pleasure that crashed over him. Shiro sucked at the skin around Lance's balls, lipping at the skin before trailing his tongue up Lance's shaft again in a zigzag pattern. Then he dipped even lower, trailing his tongue behind Lance's balls and along his perineum in small circles downwards, and Lance might have sobbed. He definitely babbled, especially when Shiro licked back up to his testicles and sucked at the base of his cock, one of Shiro's fingers coming to smear the saliva left behind lightly around his hole.

"Here too?" Shiro asked, desire pouring from every syllable. Lance panted and nodded his head furiously. Right now, he was pretty sure he'd do whatever Shiro wanted.

"Yeah, I wan- It took ah-ages to clean that luu-uube out, stuff is-" Lance gasped as Shiro's other hand moved his length to be standing upright, letting Shiro run his fingers through the ever increasing pool wetness he'd left over himself and around the glans. He might be in danger here. "REAAAH-ly thick- grippy. And- but, If I'd kn-kno," He blinked at the top of his bunk, train of thought momentarily escaping him when Shiro ran his saliva-and-pre-cum slicked fingers down his taint again to skim around the puckered muscle that sat at the base of it.

"If I'd immmm-agined for a sec-second that you'd want- You couuuuld prob-probably have just fucked- Ah!" Shiro's lips slid down over the head of Lance's cock, and even his babble defence couldn't save him now. 

"Fuck. In. Yes. Me." He whined. Shiro growled, and Lance bit his lip and tried desperately to pull himself back from the edge. "Table. Stolen Lube. If you want. Or just this."

There was a momentary absence as Shiro sat back to look around before leaning over and grabbing the bottle of Lube that had once belonged to Righty - uh, Sworvox. Who was absolutely his favourite Galra right now. Seriously, he would send Sworvox like... a gift basket of appreciation. Lance used every second he had to himself to claw back from cuming.

The absence didn't last long, Shiro returning only moments later with the bottle and going back to his self-appointed task of kissing every part of Lance's skin and making sure that he would not be able to think for the next week. The first touch of Shiro's slicked fingers against his ass were electrifying, but Shiro seemed content with pressing in only in short, shallow thrusts, almost completely drowned out by Shiro flicking his nipple with his other hand. That was a distraction tactic that Lance most certainly didn't need, no matter how good it felt. Lance was already way too worked up.

"Now. Want." He whined, untangling one of his hands from the sheets enough to grab at Shiro's hand and force it further in. He sobbed as Shiro's finger finally breached him properly, though Shiro growled against his thigh. The older man pressed another finger into him immediately, pumping them with precise, smooth movements upwards until he rubbed against that spot inside Lance that sent sparks dancing along his skin.

There was no doubt that Shiro had found what he was looking for. Lance was pretty sure he screamed.

Shiro focused on driving him mad with such a single-minded dedication that Lance was barely able to distinguish individual sensations anymore. There was a hand on his chest (His? Shiro's? No idea), a mouth on his stomach and hips, on his balls, on his cock _Thank God_. There were words, Shiro's voice low and gravelly saying things that didn't make any sense; That Lance looked good like this (Like a complete, howling mess? That seemed unlikely), that he made Shiro crazy (That was all backwards), that Shiro wanted to see him cum. (Brain error. Brain has left the building. There are no thoughts.)

Lance managed to choke out Shiro's name, and the next thing he knew Shiro was above him, body pressed flush to his, fingers hooked upwards to rub directly against his prostate.

"Do it, cum." Shiro commanded, teeth against Lance's neck. "Let me feel you."

Lance wouldn't have been able to do anything else even if he'd wanted to. The feeling that had been building up inside him exploded outwards like golden fireworks behind his eyes and inside his spine to send sparks of light along his bones. Everything that wasn't Shiro's touch fell away from his awareness; He didn't think he made any sound, but he wasn't sure that he'd have been able to tell over the rush of his own climax singing through his veins if he had.

Shiro held him close, arm slipping beneath him as he convulsed in pleasure to pull his shaking body into Shiro's and lay gentle kisses along his jaw and throat. Lance could only cling to him as the initial surge of his orgasm passed, leaving him twitching through aftershocks as awareness of his surroundings came back.

Slowly, he relaxed the death-grip he had on Shiro's shoulders, sliding his hands down the sweat-slicked skin of the other man's arms, the muscles corded tight under his hands. Shiro murmured something into his skin before laying a short, intense kiss against his lips, and Lance blinked, realising that his vision was blurred. Oh crap, had he... did he start crying? No no no, please do not let him have actually cried. He blinked again, his eyes finally clearing and yes - there were definitely tears rolling down his cheeks towards his ears. 

He'd cried. In front of Shiro. During sex. 

Fuck.

Shiro kissed him again, deeper this time, a low groan rumbling through his chest. Lance kissed back and closed his eyes, almost scared to look at Shiro when he pulled back. Putting it off wouldn't exactly help matters though, and hey, right now Lance felt freaking amazing. This was the best time to face the awkwardness.

He opened his eyes to Shiro's face filling his line of sight, hair tousled to almost upright, skin glowing with sweat, and staring at Lance with wonder and... Raw _want_.

"That might have been the hottest thing I've ever seen." Shiro pronounced breathlessly. Lance's brain helpfully woke up enough to point out that he could feel Shiro's very hard length pressed against his thigh. Shiro was hard again, even though he'd cum not even... uh, a number of minutes ago. Lances brain was not available to try to work out times.

"Fuck me. Please." Lance said, voice coming out completely shredded. Well, if his brain wasn't available for maths, it certainly wasn't available to filter what came out of his mouth.

Shiro inhaled sharply.

"I mean, I've kind of literally just been tested for STI's and come up clean, but completely besides that I had to listen to Coran give me a long and really uncomfortable lecture on that lube and how it works, so I mean..." What the hell was his mouth doing?

"Lance-" He growled. Lance nearly twitched at the sound. "You just came."

"So did you. You think you can go another round?" Lance challenged breathlessly. "‘Cause I think you should fuck me."

That seemed to break through whatever resistance Shiro might have had. A wild light took hold of his eyes as he pulled Lance in, kissing him mercilessly. Lance just did his best to hold on in the face of the storm that was the black paladin's lust.

* * *

Shiro's blood was on fire. Watching Lance come apart like that, _feeling_ him come apart underneath him, against him, was so much better than he could have imagined.

And then- Then Lance had to say "Fuck me," God, _dare_ Shiro to fuck him, with his voice raw and ravaged from sucking Shiro off and _screaming_ with pleasure. Those words felt like a bolt of pure need, ripping through any coherent thoughts as though they were paper.

Shiro sat back and braced himself on one arm, his other hand hold his length steady as he pressed the head against Lance's slicked hole. He hadn't really prepared Lance as well as he'd have liked, but hopefully it would be ok if he took it slowly. The thought of not being inside Lance right at this second was unacceptable. Lance tried to prop himself up on his elbows to watch, but his arms didn't seem to be quite under his control, so he settled for staring down his body as Shiro breached the ring of outer muscle.

The warm, tight heat of Lance squeezed him, and Shiro felt like he was being pulled in. Lance threw his head back and gasped, a tremor running through his body. Any plans Shiro had to go slowly were completely burned away.

He slammed home with a low growl. Lance cried out sharply, and Shiro tried, he tried with every scrap of will he had, to hold still, to let Lance adjust to his size. Lance immediately pushed back against him, rolled his hips under him, and that was it. Shiro could not hold still in the face of a writhing Lance on his cock.

God, Lance was so tight and hot and _good_.

Shiro picked up Lance's hips and set a brutal pace, fucking into the exhausted body below him. Lance's legs wrapped around him, hands grabbing at the sheets while sharp cries and gasps flooded out of him. Shiro tried to keep enough awareness to spot any discomfort- Lance _had_ to be sensitive still, but the brunet seemed to ripple like water around him, easily taking the punishing pace.

"You're so good," Shiro bit out, wanting to explain something of why he was being so rough. "You drive me crazy- gorgeous, so hot." 

Lance responded with a low groan. Shiro bent down to lick at Lance's rather chewed lower lip, moaning raggedly as Lance bent easily beneath him and he slid inside him deeper still. Lance's eyes flew wide, a surprised exclamation escaping his mouth to be swallowed by Shiro.

"Talk to me," Shiro ordered. "Tell me how you're doing."

"Fuck-" Lance wailed, fingers scrambling onto Shiro's shoulders and fresh tears beginning to slide down his face. "Full. Deep. I can't..."

Shiro's hips snapped forwards with far more force than he was intending, not fully expecting to find Lance's wrecked voice describing what Shiro was doing him to have such a strong affect on him. He really should have, but today was just full of new things. Lance threw his head back and keened under him, arching up until only his head and shoulders were still on the bed.

"More. Did-n't think..." Lance sobbed. He tightened on Shiro, pulsing around his cock as Shiro slammed into him, ruthlessly hard and fast, taking everything Lance could offer. "So goo-ood, I can't- I wanna be... for you, wanna be enough." 

"More than enough." Shiro answered, biting into Lance's shoulder. Lance cried out, nails raking lines into Shiro's shoulders in a way that only served to drive Shiro on harder, to fuel the fire in him, make him want to possess the man beneath him. He pulled back to look; the scratches and scars across skin slick with sweat and cum, his cock, still soft but leaking onto his stomach with every thrust of Shiro's own cock inside him, the dark bites that had been left along his neck by both himself and that Galra. But that Galra hadn't been allowed to see this part of Lance, because Lance was _his_.

A primal snarl tore through his throat as he leaned down to lap at the traces of his own cum and Lance's sweat that still clung to the corner of his mouth. "Mine," he huffed, too far gone to remember not to let this side of himself show.

Lance blinked up at him, eyes completely black and wild. "Yours. Wann-a be... Yours. Fuck," Lance's gaze lost focus, mouth falling open silently as his voice cut out. He gasped and tried to speak again. "Too- Too good. Please, please. I can't - I'll break.

"Dessss-troy me- Mark me. So huh- full, wanna feel you- Please, in me. Cum." Lance panted, and Holy. Shit. Shiro felt his second orgasm rushing up to him, spurring him beyond any care but chasing that feeling and devouring the beautiful man currently writhing on his length like he was meant to be there. 

Then Lance _howled_ , forcing as much of Shiro's cock inside him as he could, eyes rolling back in his head, convulsing, quivering and rippling around Shiro like he was cumming despite his cock still resting untouched between them.

The heaviness finally shattered, and Shiro shouted as his vision went white. He emptied everything he had left into Lance's fluttering body, mind blanked, awareness narrowed to the feel of Lance around his cock and the fizz of ecstasy through his veins. He collapsed forwards, catching himself on his elbows before he really _did_ bend Lance in half, panting wildly against Lance's chest, hips still jerking into Lance completely on their own as sharp aftershocks rolled through him with spikes of pleasure.

Lance whimpered, and Shiro felt a touch guilty. But Lance also hadn't unlocked his legs from around Shiro's waist, so there wasn't a lot Shiro could do.

"Did you just-" Shiro began as soon as enough of his senses had returned for words to be viable.

"I think... I just came again..." Lance replied, voice thready, cracking and sometimes dropping out completely. God damn he sounded wrecked. Shiro wanted to hear it more often. "I didn't know I could do that so soon."

"Wait..." Shiro looked down at Lance in surprise. Lance's eyes were closed, and he _looked_ just as ravaged as he sounded, with lips bitten raw, tears running down his face, bites all over his neck and shoulders... Shiro really had done a number on him. Still, he wore a completely blissed-out expression on his face, eyes closed and mouth pulled into a satisfied smile. "That's never happened before?"

"Nope. You bring out the best in me." Lance blinked lazily at him. "Or the beast."

Shiro chuckled despite himself. "I look forwards to bringing it out more often."

Lance inhaled sharply, naked hope in his eyes. "I... Look forwards to that too."

Shiro pulled himself up to look down at Lance more carefully. "Did you think that this was... a one time thing?"

"Well, I didn't _want_ it to be a one-time thing." Lance looked away. The flush that had been draining from his face seemed to come back again. "I want to be with you. Be yours. But... well, I mean, you're not obligated to have me just because you've basically given me two... no, three of the best orgasms of my life. In person. And a couple of good ones where you weren't actually there, but that's... probably way too much information there."

Shiro kissed him soundly to stop the flow of words pouring out of him right now, already planning to ask him to describe the fantasies that lead to ‘a couple of good ones'.

"I'm not giving you up." Shiro whispered against Lance's lips. "You're mine, and I intend to keep you."

Lance smiled against him, a disbelieving laugh rolling off of his tongue.

"So... you're going to have to let me out soon." Shiro pointed out.

"Aww. But I like you there."

"Come on," Shiro insisted, hands running down Lance's side and up his thighs. "We need to get cleaned up."

Lance grumbled, but released his hold on Shiro's waist and allowed him to carefully pull out. Shiro gathered himself and slid off of the bed, sparing a quick look at Lance before ducking into the bathroom to clean himself up and locate a washcloth among the many sponges and lotions that Lance had accumulated.

Lance was almost asleep when Shiro returned, unsurprising all things considered. He still shifted into the damp cloth that Shiro ran over his body, making small pleased sounds under his breath.

Lance was right about the lube behaving weirdly though.

"Told you." Lance offered smugly at Shiro's confused expression.

* * *

Shiro blearily opened his eyes as he heard a knocking on the door. Without thinking, he lifted Lance carefully off of his chest, sliding out from under his arm and leg. He grabbed his shirt from the floor and pulled it on, checking only to make sure it wasn't inside-out or backwards before hitting the release button for the door.

Hunk and Keith stood on the other side. Hunk also looked thoroughly surprised, blinking at him owlishly for a good couple of ticks.

"Uh... Dinner is ready?" Hunk offered.

"Huh?" Shiro asked, waiting for his mind to catch up.

Oh...

Oh, drat.

"Oh. Okay. I'll uh - make sure we're there for it." He offered, feeling his face heat up. Hunk nodded, turning mechanically away to walk up the hall before realising he'd walked the wrong way and turning back.

He stopped before the door, not looking at Shiro or Keith.

"Uh, fair warning... I'm gonna be giving Lance a high five. It's nothing personal, I just know he's gonna ask for one, and I'm definitely gonna give him a high five." Hunk said before taking off down the hall.

Shiro watched him go before turning to Keith, who had glanced past him into Lance's room with an expression of disapproval.

"So... did you _actually_ talk it out, or just have sex?"

Shiro squeaked. "We talked! We absolutely talked it out first."

Keith sighed and rested his hands on his hips, the disapproval lifting a little. "Guess that's something," He muttered, turning to walk back up the hall. "But I'm not bringing you dinner."

Shiro watched Keith walk away, feeling a little light-headed. He turned back to the bed, where Lance was wearing only a hoodie and a plethora of bites and scratches, and tried to decide how to wake him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... This small part had to be cut out just before Shiro took his shirt off, because it kind of interrupted the flow of the scene.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Especially because because Lance had already seen him naked... 
> 
> _Shiro hadn't been expecting anyone. It was late, and the trainig deck had been empty asside from him, so why would Shiro expect anyone to be using the public showers? It didn't even occur to him that he might not be alone as he stripped off his work-out clothes and threw them all down the laundry chute. He took a change of clothes and his towel into what he thought was an empty shower stall, only to find that it was nowhere near as empty as expected._
> 
> _Lance was sitting on the ground, slumped against the wall, half clothed and staring ahead with a lost expression, like he'd been in the middle of something and just... stopped. Shiro must have made a noise, because damp eyes turned towards him and widened in surprise. They stared at each other for what felt like ages, utter mortification warring with concern in Shiro's mind and distorting his sense of time._
> 
> _He'd watched Lance's face, first looking like he'd been caught doing something he knew he wasn't supposed to do._
> 
> _Then raking his eyes over Shiro's body with the same look he'd worn the first time they'd met and Shiro had held his mechanical hand out to shake without even thinking about it._
> 
>   _Finally, he'd flushed red and put on a forced grin, giving Shiro a low whistle._
> 
>   _"Nice dick."_
> 
> _Shiro spun on his heel and marched out, feeling himself going red._

**Author's Note:**

> Too tired to final edit -_-


End file.
